


my color is your color

by sevenzeroseven



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Multi, only a few chapters have sexual content and will be marked, see individual chapters for content tags/warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 64,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenzeroseven/pseuds/sevenzeroseven
Summary: do you remember your original color? / collection of c.c. x lelouch and unholy trinity fics set across different universes, timelines, and destinies. originally posted on tumblr @greywitch.





	1. Masquerade I

**Author's Note:**

> ive been meaning to do this for a long time, but this is a large collection of fics imported from [@greywitch](http://greywitch.tumblr.com/) on tumblr written from 2014-2016 (ordered in chronological order-ish by chapter from newest to old). some chapters are really short; some are pretty long. see the chapter summary for details on each chapter's content/setting. major warnings (i.e. sexual content) will be noted in the beginning A/N if there are any. some drabbles are connected/mini-series, and they will come in succession and be marked as such in the chapter title as well as in the chapter summary. hopefully, this will make them more accessible to new and returning readers :') sorry the format isn't the best, but a long ass fic with many chapters was the best way i could think of compiling these!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of masquerade. royalty AU with witch c.c. and unholy trinity.

She hadn’t known why she felt the need to disguise herself, but here she was, fair hair piled atop her head. The faint scent of her own perfume irritated her nose. It twitched as she passed an even  _more_ heavily cologned group of men who cast her longing, curious gazes as she swept past. They weren’t the ones she was interested in this evening; she had her sights set on no less than the prince and his consort. Or “consort,” rather, though the rumors of their involvement had already spread throughout the kingdom. Royalty and their knight—it was so  _terribly_ cliché, but that didn’t lessen the intrigue surrounding the two, and the witch of Britannia had to admit—she was intrigued. 

C.C. weaved through the crowd lithe as a cat and kept the mask close to her pale skin rendering her nigh unrecognizable. First, the knight. He was easier to  ~~ensnare~~  endear, and the thrill of trying out old magic made anew thrummed through her body. She hadn’t felt this much excitement since the last war. Her eyes, hint of gold shining through, sparkled in the torchlight of the nearest gaudily dressed pillar as she lay in wait for Suzaku. 

“C.C.”

She didn’t startle very easily, but she  _almost_ did at the smooth tone, the piercing violet eyes that greeted her immediately upon turning. He used to be a head taller than her, and he still was. The heels breached that gap only slightly. Ah, so it seemed the disguise had been moot after all. She’d just been making a fool of herself. Smirking, because if she was going to be caught so early in the game she was  _at least_  going to save face, she lowered the mask and met Lelouch’s unamused gaze boldly. 

“Welcomed by the prince himself. Really, you shouldn’t have.” She didn’t skimp on the sarcasm, and he moved his mask aside in the same beat. His outfit was a shockingly simple affair: black lace, black suit, black cloak. A little macabre for the heir apparent, no? And a little less flashy than she was used to seeing him. She almost made a smart quip about it before his fingers closed around her wrist and dragged her close enough to kiss.

“What are you planning,” he hissed, and she  _itched_ to tell him, but all in due time. She’d already lost the element of surprise; she didn’t want to spoil the punchline too.

“Nothing,” she said simply, and he raised an eyebrow in silent challenge before pitching her hand aside. C.C. pulled her arm back with narrowed eyes. “Am I not allowed to attend?”  

“ _You’re not,_ ” he stressed. “You weren’t invited—”

“Be that as it may,” C.C. conceded, twirling a golden envelope between her fingers that’d seemingly appeared out of midair. “I have an invitation." 

He snatched the sheet away as soon as it drew close enough to do so, eyes furiously scanning the neatly penned words.

"It seems Leila Malcal will be unable to make an appearance this evening. Unforeseen circumstances. A shame.” C.C. said it all passively like reciting lines out of a book, and Lelouch only growled, irises flashing with annoyance as he flung the paper back. C.C. caught it deftly—and smugly.

He wouldn’t go as far as to ask whether  _she_ had caused these “unforeseen circumstances,” but he didn’t put it past her. A tight sigh escaped pursed lips, and his shoulders sagged despite himself. 

“Just—don’t incite trouble. Or panic.”

C.C. didn’t reply, but her faux innocence said  _who, me?_

Lelouch didn’t deign to humor her before he was turning on his heel and retreating back into the crowd. C.C. stood on the sidelines, in the hall where she’d momentarily hidden herself, and hummed knowingly. He may not have liked crowds, but he looked best in them, always stood out a little more when there were others pressing their noses into the dirt beside him. Her eyes lingered on the boy’s backside, and then she was off pursuing her original objective once more. Now, if the knight wasn’t with the prince, where could he be?


	2. Masquerade II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of masquerade.

Drawing Suzaku away from the party was easy. At the boy’s approach, she simply told another guard to relay the message that Lady Malcal had urgent matters to discuss, and the knight was obediently following her at a distance into the gardens. It wasn’t until they nearly reached the center of the twisted hedges and rose bushes, perfect for illicit affairs and telltale gossiping, that Suzaku cleared his throat and halted his advance. C.C. trailed a little farther ahead and stopped but didn’t turn. 

“Lady Malcal?” he asked, the inflection at the end betraying his uncertainty. “You have something to discuss?” 

C.C. found the nearest bench hidden in the shrubbery and sat, motioning for the other to join her. Suzaku’s outfit, white accented in gold, more closely resembled a ceremonial uniform, but it suited him. The exaggerated shoulder pads and wide cuffs may have been overdoing it a little, though, and her appraising eyes didn’t go unnoticed as the boy gingerly settled down beside her.

“Is it that bad,” he huffed, picking at a golden tassel before meeting her eyes. As she’d predicted, he was none the wiser, benign smile showing no sign that he’d caught onto her ruse. She finally peeked out from behind her mask, and her facial features were decidedly  _not_ those of the delicate ex-commander’s.

Suzaku started, hand going to the sword strapped at his waist reflexively before an expression of ennui replaced the expression of mild alarm. He wet his lips and hazarded a tentative guess. “C.C.?”

“Who else,” she returned, throwing her mask aside entirely now as she crossed her legs and bounced a heel whimsically. She cupped her chin in her left hand and waited for indignation, but it never came, just a resigned scoff as the tension visually left his stiff shoulders, and he relaxed.

“Lelouch invited you?” he pressed, incredulous and disbelieving, but she dodged the question with an untimely—

“Kiss me.” She wasn’t here to make small talk, after all. She fully meant to jar the other, but after a moment of wide eyes and gaping, he bounced back faster than she anticipated. 

“Why.” 

He didn’t seem to be taking her seriously, but that was just as well. The edges of her lips quirked up in triumph. “Kiss me, and you’ll see.”

A raised eyebrow, a beat of skepticism, and he was leaning in. This was  _far_ too easy. Their lips barely brushed against one another, but that was all she needed. It was over before it began, and Suzaku was blinking confusedly at her once more.

“Was that—” He cocked his head to the side, hands going to grip the edge of their bench. “A love spell?” There was something condescending in the way he said it. “You’re resorting to love spells now?” There was  _definitely_ something condescending in the way he said it. 

C.C. shrugged it off airily, haughtily almost, with an unconcerned, “Did it work.”

Suzaku laughed good-naturedly despite the fact. “Is it supposed to be obvious enough to tell?”

“Then how did you?”

For once, she was the one having her questions ignored as Suzaku answered with a lackadaisical shrug and elbows propped against his knees. His eyes crinkled, breath of laughter escaping his nose before he muttered, “What good is the love of a man like me.”

C.C. nearly rolled her eyes. Lelouch and Suzaku, always so  _dramatic_ , but she supposed she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t like it to some degree. She ignored the hint of self-deprecation, unwilling to lend a sympathetic ear because, well, when did she ever?

“Having the top knight and the king-to-be wrapped around my finger?“ she returned instead. "No, why would I want that?” One down, one more to go. Lelouch should have been properly inebriated by now, and he’d always been such a lightweight. It was about time for him to retire.

“If you’ll excuse me.” She uncrossed her legs and stepped back into her heel. “I have another fool to find.”

She didn’t expect the firm grip around her wrist dragging her back or the determined expression that met the slightly inquisitive, apathetic glare she was throwing over her shoulder. 

“Sorry, but I won’t be letting you toy with Lelouch too.”

“Ever the conscientious guard dog,” she snorted. “It’s funny that you think you can stop me.”

“I can.” 

C.C. raised an eyebrow, sincerely curious as the other’s hold slackened. He rose to meet her and— _oh_. It was a teasing kiss at best, no tongue, but it was enough. 

Suzaku drew back, chagrin written all over his face, and C.C. stepped forward.

“Oh?” she purred, both arms going to drape around his neck. “You’ll have to do better than that.” Change of plans. This was more interesting—for now. (Maybe her spell had worked a little too well.)


	3. Masquerade III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 3 of masquerade.

C.C. hadn’t expected to be woken at this godforsaken hour, and it showed in the wayward strands of hair sticking out here and there. The gossamer hem of her nightgown dragged along the floor, and she pulled the matching veil back from her eyes as the chambermaid directed her to the royal study room. It was dark save for the prince smoldering in the corner. She fallaciously thanked her guide and shut the door.

“Couldn’t wait until morning,” she remarked offhandedly. He didn’t answer except to cross his legs and lean back into his seat, fingers curling into his cheek and knuckles dusting against his chin. He waited until she took the seat opposite him.

“Playing chess against yourself again?” She quirked an eyebrow at the mess of pieces, black and white hopelessly intermingled on the board. She would have taken this as an invitation to play if not for how constipated her partner looked. 

“What have you done,” he said flatly and continued before she could make a roundabout reply. “Suzaku said you used a—”

He choked as if he couldn’t stomach the sheer ridiculousness of the thought. “ _Love spell_  on him. Is that true?”

“Jealous?” C.C. quipped.

“Hardly,” Lelouch snorted. “Why.”

“I explained it to lover boy. Did he not say?”

“He—” Lelouch paused, shifted his weight to the edge of his seat, and laced his fingers together restlessly with a resigned shake of the head. “Was acting strangely to say the least.”

“Be grateful,” she hummed and picked the black queen off the marble surface. Lelouch didn’t look happy about having his set-up disturbed, but she pretended not to notice. “The spell only works on a particular night every half-century or so, and yesterday happened to be that night. You’ve missed your opportunity. Saddened?”

“Disturbed,” Lelouch said slowly, eyeing her skeptically still as she brought the chess piece to her lips and smirked.

“Is he really in love with you now?”

C.C. shrugged. “Probably.” At the look of mild alarm, a breath of laughter escaped her lips. “Relax, boy. It’s a benign spell. Breaks as soon as he finds  _true_ love. I’m only having a little fun.”

“ _Dangerous_ fun,” he pointed out and finally reached across to snatch the piece out of her grasp. He examined it briefly, distrustfully, before returning it to its previous spot. 

“Why are you back,” he finally sighed. “It’s been seven years.”

“Did you miss me?” she asked and was surprised to be met with grudging silence.

“Answer the question,” he groused.

“Prepare my favorite meal in the morning, and maybe I will.” 

By the time he looked up, she was already halfway to the door.

“ _Witch_ ,” he snapped but didn’t follow though she could feel the bitter gaze burning into her back. 

“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” she returned and didn’t wait to hear the answer before disappearing into the hallway and leaving the other to brood alone.


	4. TA x Prof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> professor c.c. x teaching assistant lelouch.

Perhaps it wasn’t appropriate, but C.C. had never been one to let  _propriety_ stop her as fingertips trailed across the top of the paper Lelouch was grading, red pen pinched resolutely between thumb and forefinger as he did his damnedest to ignore her provocation. It wasn’t hard by any means to provoke the boy; it was only pride that kept him from acting on it and maybe the thin walls separating her office from the others. It was her breath ghosting down the skin at the nape of his neck and a faint squeeze of his shoulder as she leaned over him to correct his mistake, as she plucked the pen between his fingers and earned herself a sour glare.

“You’re making mistakes, Lelouch.”

“And whose fault is that,” he snapped, all bark and no bite. It was cute.

“You should hurry if you want to make that study date with your friend,” she quipped though she was sliding into his lap the next moment and tugging on his tie after that with no real intention of letting him go.


	5. Deconstruction I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of deconstruction. inspired by/based on the anime movie _hal_ (2013).

Lelouch glanced at the slip of paper in his hand. He was sure he had the right address even though it probably wouldn’t hurt calling the doctor to double-check. He hadn’t known the man for every long, but instinct told him Lloyd wasn’t the type who’d react well to being second-guessed. His eyes flicked back to the number plate, and he raised his hand to knock a fourth time when a faraway voice, light and young, interrupted. The door and distance muffled the words, but they were probably along the lines of “I’m coming.”

He sighed in something like relief and stepped back. It looked like he wouldn’t have to call after all. A hand casually slipped into his pocket as he waited, the other still clinging to the note. It was another minute or so before the girl answered, the loud gasp bringing Lelouch back to attention and making him stiffen as he raised his head to stare directly into his sister’s eyes. Not  _his_ per se, Lelouch’s.

She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, eyes watering. Lelouch balked, suddenly at a loss for words even though he’d been informed how close they were. 

“I—”

“I’m sorry.” The words came out miserable and small behind trembling fingers, big eyes still gaping at this replica of her older brother. “You—You just—” She stopped and shook her head like there were no words to describe what she was feeling. There probably weren’t. Lelouch sympathized with her, almost. 

“You’re Nunnally,” he said impassively, and her fingers finally fell away to reveal a shaky smile.

“Y-Yes.” She hadn’t cried much to his surprise, much as the tears threatened to spill over rosy cheeks. Humans were strong; he appreciated that. He returned a benign smile as she rolled back into the apartment, and he stepped after her.

“I-I’m sure Mr. Asplund has already told you about…” She trailed off, eyes skittering to the side.

“I’m aware of the situation, yes.” His attention had turned to his surroundings, the slovenly state of things. The girl had obviously done her best to care for the dilapidating interior, but she only had so much time.

“I have to leave for work in the next hour,” she finished like she’d guessed his thoughts, and he flashed her a reassuring smile. That was what he was here for, after all, to pick up where she left off. She’d seemed to collect herself somewhat, expression hinting at genuine gratitude, as she rolled herself further into the apartment and insisted on giving him a tour.

That wasn’t necessary, he almost said. The apartment was small. There was hardly anything to tour, and as she rolled along, she bent to pick up things she hadn’t in her preliminary sweep. Wrappers, pizza boxes, soda cans, pizza boxes, coupons, pizza boxes.

“This—” He paused. “C.C.” The name rolled off his tongue awkwardly. “She certainly likes pizza, doesn’t she?”

Nunnally smiled once more, but there was something more melancholy there, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before answering. “Big brother—” A beat of hesitation. “You,” she corrected, “placed a permanent order to the nearest Pizza Hut. A large special of Miss C.C.’s favorite to be delivered twice a day everyday. I-I don’t think she could bring herself to cancel it a-after—” 

Nunnally choked, and Lelouch understood well enough.

“Ah, I see.”

The smile returned, even weaker, and she sighed. “I’m glad. If it weren’t for that, I’m sure she would have stopped eating altogether.” Her voice had dropped to a near whisper, and then she was moving her wheelchair into the hallway beside the living-dining room. 

“Miss C.C.,” she called once she’d reached the solitary door at the end. “I’ll be leaving now.” No answer. “I-I’ll be back Friday evening.” No answer.

Lelouch tilted his head to the side. Would he really be able to help this woman?

Nunnally sighed a second time, and her hands fell to twiddle nervously in her lap. It was a full minute before she gave up and returned to where Lelouch had been standing, watching, and waiting. 

“Maybe she’ll respond better to you,” she laughed, the sound dying away rather quickly. “I’ll be late,” she added, turning to the door. “Please take care of her.” 

“Shall I walk you out?” Lelouch offered, glancing at her wheelchair skeptically. He was sure he’d ascended stairs at some point, but she assured him she had a friend waiting and dismissed the topic, proceeding to the exit.

Her skirt fluttered around her ankles in the wind passing through the open door as she stopped to look back, and all Lelouch could do was stare blankly in return. This was supposed to be Lelouch’s sister, but he was just a machination, a soulless carbon copy at best. He didn’t have the memories or emotions he did, but he did feel a strange tug of  _something_  as she bid him farewell and repeated her request, a simple  _please take care_  this time before leaving.

In the silence that followed, broken only by the ticking clock hanging on the wall above him, he couldn’t help but think that was easier said than done. His violet eyes trailed to the locked bedroom door and narrowed. Never mind that.

He turned his attention to the dusty floors and bits of trash clinging to every surface, the couch and tables. Unit Zero, as the doctor had first addressed him upon waking, placed his hands on his hips. A clean house was a happy house, or something like that. Dead boyfriend aside, of course this C.C. would be depressed living in a sty like this; anyone would. 


	6. Deconstruction II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of deconstruction.

Lelouch quickly discovered that even though she didn’t like his presence, she would capitalize on it if she could. He was sure that in the past she would at least stir to greet the pizza boy. Now, however, he was the one doing it twice a day like clockwork. Once in the morning, usually 10 on the dot, and once in the afternoon usually 1 or 2. He’d set her pizza before the bedroom and rap a knuckle against the door once, twice, thrice. She never answered, but at some other point usually when he was preoccupied cleaning, the pizza would disappear.

He also quickly learned that even though there was a bathroom in the hall, there must have been one in the bedroom as well. However, there were clothes in the hamper every morning, so he assumed she was at least maintaining personal hygiene.

Given her diet, though, there weren’t many dishes, only the few he’d cleared away the first day. He’d already vacuumed the carpet, laundered the couch cushions, dusted the furniture. Lelouch scrubbed a wrist across his forehead, hair held back by a pink bandana as a matching apron hung from his front. He’d thought they were hers at first, but judging by the size (and what he’d managed to wheedle out of Nunnally), probably not. 

His eyes scanned his surroundings with a pinch of pride. In little more than a week, he’d managed to turn a sty into something respectable for human living. He didn’t want to think about the state of the bedroom, but unfortunately, the woman was too stubborn to let him in.

All he had left to do was scrub the hardwood before starting dinner. He was surprisingly good at cooking, the chore coming to him second nature. He didn’t question it, surmised they simply put painstaking detail into making him as close to his deceased counterpart as they could, but he thought it was a bit of a waste if she refused to eat the food. She had pizza for breakfast and lunch, so that left dinner open for something comparatively nutritious. He’d tried Japanese food the first day, American food the next, and French food the day after, but they’d all gone untouched come morning.

He glanced over at the door once more with a huff before readjusting his bandana and fetching the rag and soapy water he’d left on the kitchen floor. Either way, he had to try. That was what he was here for. 

He unconsciously kept an eye on the pizza as he worked. It’d been waiting patiently for its mistress since half past noon, but even though he’d given her plenty of opportunities—like the half hour trip he’d taken to the market—she’d yet to eat it. The thing had long gone disgustingly cold, and come sunset, he was almost starting to worry.

Surprisingly realistic sweat drenched his forehead, and he was wiping it away with his wrist once more as he gazed down at his handiwork. The rag had turned a pasty shade of grey, but the floors were practically sparkling. He fancied he could see his reflection and contemplated splurging on wax when his ears picked up the squeaking of hinges. He only caught a glimpse before the door shut again—a golden eye staring out at him, wisps of green hair, a pale hand darting between the crack and closing around the edge of the pizza box.

He scoffed in the aftermath, going from his knees to sitting back and splaying his hands out behind him. He glanced out the balcony window and noticed evening Tokyo for the first time. He’d been too busy the past few days, usually cooking by now and then hastily bidding his silent charge farewell and slipping into the doctor’s car downstairs. He was inexplicably glad he didn’t have to spend the night. It was too quiet.

Returning to his knees, Lelouch placed both hands on the cloth and resolved to make one final sweep. In a burst of effort, he knocked into the bookshelf, and something clattered from the top and nearly bashed his head in. He winced at the loud clatter, turning around to see photos haphazardly scattered everywhere. Shit. The floors were still wet. He scrambled to gather the pages before the cleaning reagents ruined them, but his eyes couldn’t help lingering here and there.

It looked like Lelouch used to be part of the student council. One photo showed some kind of back-to-school gathering, another a school festival. Nothing showcased C.C., however, and he was about to question her conspicuous absence when he noticed the smaller, thinner album that had toppled over with the first. Carefully returning the previous pictures to the larger, he picked up the second next. Only a few pictures had been knocked out of this one.

Most of them were taken from a third person perspective of the couple doing mundane things—eating, reading, sitting together and watching a movie. He vaguely wondered whether it’d been Nunnally who’d taken them. Mundane or otherwise, the two looked peaceful, happy. People always looked happy in photos, though, didn’t they? 

It wasn’t until he reached the last few pages that the pictures started changing in tone somewhat. More smiling ones, fewer of the couple alone and more surrounded by others. C.C. and a pink-haired girl—Euphy, probably, if he remembered correctly—in front of Tokyo Tower. C.C. and a group of girls that he recognized from the other album at the zoo. Lelouch holding C.C. bridal-style and looking none-too-happy about it while the latter sported a smug expression. Someone who he assumed was C.C. pinching Lelouch’s cheek, and the picture was obviously taken from a phone, but even the blurry quality couldn’t mask the man’s irate frown.

He laughed aloud at that and found words he didn’t recognize spilling out of his mouth. “Happiness is like glass.”

“What are you doing.” 

Lelouch started. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the bedroom door opening or the quiet footsteps. His eyes met long legs then the edges of a man’s dress shirt then cold eyes staring down at him accusingly. By the time he scrambled to his feet, she was already turning around and walking off. 

“I—” He stopped, narrowing his eyes at her backside. The dress shirt, being a man’s, was rather  _long_ , but… was she wearing underwear? Was that an appropriate question to ask? 

“Where is the clean laundry,” she interrupted, passive eyes sweeping the apartment. He supposed that answered it.

He was unexpectedly flustered as he moved to the laundry basket by the door, having fetched it from downstairs and forgotten to put them away. He dug through the mess of clothes almost frantically.

“They’re right here—”

The door slammed, and he flinched. What the hell. His eyebrows drew into a frown despite himself, panties clutched in one hand as his other groped the wall for support standing up. It was completely dark now, and he flicked the hallway light on.

“I’ll just.” He paused, disgruntlement leaking into the words. “Leave them here, then.”

He didn’t want to just leave them on the floor despite how meticulously he’d cleaned it, and after some internal conflict, he finally settled on placing a paper towel at the door and leaving it on there. He stared at it awhile, the ridiculousness not exactly escaping him, but the girl was being difficult. He recalled the pictures of her smiling and the dead glare she’d just given him and wondered how the two could be the same person. 

A buzzing caught his attention, and he realized it was coming from his slacks. He groped for his cellphone and only glanced at the caller ID briefly before picking up. 

“He—”

“ _Hellloooo!_ ” The doctor’s happy voice filtered through followed by muffled chastising that he could only assume was Cécile. A moment of bickering, and his voice returned a little less enthusiastically. “Well, are you ready to leave for the night?”

Lelouch balked. He hadn’t realized it’d gotten that late, but one look at the clock in the living room, and he noted that the other was right. 

“Yes, I’ll be down shortly,” he answered briskly and disconnected the call. He grabbed his messenger bag by the door, slipping it over his shoulder, and hesitated. His eyes trailed back to the albums he’d left on the floor when C.C. had surprised him. He’d only intended to place them back on the shelves, but once he’d had them in his hands again, he found himself stuffing them into his bag instead. Technically, they were his, weren’t they? 

“Miss C.C.,” he called, tearing off his apron and bandana in the process and neatly folding them on the coffee table. “I’ll be leaving for the evening. I wasn’t able to make dinner, but I’ll return earlier tomorrow morning and make breakfast if you’d like.” No answer. He took that as a yes and turned to the door. His fingers caught on the handle, and he stopped a second time. 

“Happiness is like glass,” he muttered to no one in particular, eyebrows once again knitting into a frown. He wondered where he’d heard that from.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” he repeated, a little louder and more determined before stepping across the threshold. A strange thought had entered his head, stronger than his original objective just to “help her.” More than that, he wanted to make her happy again. He wanted to see her smile like she used to. 


	7. Shōwa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by/based on the anime _shouwa genroku rakugo shinjuu_.

Lelouch walked the unfamiliar road, coat hanging stiff off his right hand as he clutched the letter loosely in his left. The paper had already gone soft and wrinkled after passing through one too many people—C.C.’s former mistress, the postmaster, and anyone else he thought might’ve helped. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. C.C. was effective at disappearing when she wanted to, and if she had gone alone, maybe he never would have found her, but a woman like her with a man like him and a  _child_ could only hide so long.

The gravel shifted haphazardly under his weight, and he was reminded he wasn’t in the paved streets of Pendragon anymore, not even Tokyo. He had to stop a moment and wipe the sweat running down his brow despite not having walked very far or long. Lelouch cursed his poor stamina and blamed the brunt of it on the weather. Heat waves practically radiated in the air. He sighed and trudged on.

The sound of summer cicadas and running water, the steady, gurgling stream to his left, harked back to better times, but rather than nostalgia, there was only bitterness. His eyes flicked up; he slowed. He’d never been one to appreciate the scenery, but he forced himself to now. He wouldn’t ever be back, after all. His gaze scanned the horizon where blue skies met green fields, paused, and suddenly he remembered a quiet voice telling him she never wanted to live in the country. (Was she happy?)

Lelouch popped the top button of his shirt and kept walking.

It took a moment after the house started coming into view to realize that it was a house at all. The shingles were ruined; it was narrow and cramped with a barren yard and rundown porch. The entire place looked more abandoned than lived-in, hardly habitable, and something like anxiety crept up on him, the disappointment that maybe he’d gotten bad information again. He’d nearly approached their makeshift “gate” when a high voice sliced through the air, a girl’s or, more specifically, a child’s.

A half-pint rounded the corner of the house, and it immediately struck Lelouch that she didn’t look particularly like either of them. Her chopped hair was a dark, dirty green-grey and her eyes something more hazel than Suzaku’s jade or C.C.’s amber. It was momentarily off-putting until Suzaku appeared, and Lelouch exhaled sharply. He said something or other that Lelouch didn’t quite catch before setting down a basket of laundry and drawing the child to him by the nape of her worn-down kimono with the flower patches on the bottom like the one her mother used to wear. Lelouch felt a spark of pain in his chest. He gulped.

“Suzaku,” he called, voice betraying his relief. He saw his old friend with his back to him stiffen; the girl stopped fussing and blinked.

“Daddy?” she intoned just as the other straightened to his full height and turned.

“We were wondering when you’d find us,” he murmured, sounding chagrined despite the smile splitting his face.


	8. Possessed I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of possessed. demon c.c. x possessed lelouch (julius) x angel suzaku.

“Welcome home.”

Lelouch froze with his fingers halfway down the buttons of his clergy shirt and pivoted in the direction of the voice. It came from the shadowy part of the room, and the girl herself emerged soon enough or, rather, what  _looked_  like a girl. Sometimes Lelouch thought he could see the silhouette of a forked tail, horns, and leathery wings if he concentrated hard enough; other times he suspected her influence was making him go insane. He tensed the moment she stepped into his bubble of personal space, but pride kept him from taking a step back. He wet his lips and frowned, obviously displeased, but continued undressing albeit slower. C.C.’s eyes glowed like embers in the half light, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her sooner. Maybe he was getting used to her; the idea was disturbing enough that he was discarding it almost as soon as it came to mind.

“Relax,” she half-purred, half-scoffed, but Lelouch was turning away regardless, not very fond of the idea of someone  _watching_ him. He threw the white priestly collar on the coffee table and quickly retreated into the hall. When he reached his bedroom, however, she was already there and would have given him a start if this hadn’t happened countless times already. As it was, he merely scowled at her and trailed into the closet. At least there he was afforded  _some_ privacy as he stripped the stiff, black fabric from his shoulders and muddled around in the dark for sleepwear.

He hadn’t been expecting her, and he supposed he hated that most about C.C. She came and went as she pleased. It was a real inconvenience, but for once, he’d actually been hoping she’d visit. He had questions for her; whether or not she would answer them was a different story. His eyebrows knitted together lightly, and maybe she saw from her vantage point splayed across the bed, making a mess of his sheets.

“I told you,” she drawled, a mix of bored and amused. “With  _those_ , even I can’t touch you.” 

He ignored the provocation though his fingers stumbled over the buttons of his flannel pajamas, tattoos peeking through, before he was quickly fastening the rest up to his neck and stepping out again. He cleared his throat and shot her a disapproving glare.

“I thought we agreed: you wouldn’t show up in front of Nunnally and you shouldn’t show at the church.”

In a  _holy_ place like the church, he’d picked up her presence immediately. Her expression for the most part remained unchanged, but there was the smallest uptick of her lips that another might have mistaken for a smile.  _And what, you didn’t greet me?_  the gesture seemed to say before she was rolling onto her back again and then swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

“I wore a disguise,” she said simply as though that were reason enough to  _break_ a part of their contract, and maybe it was. Demons loved loopholes. As long as she didn’t cause trouble, Lelouch hadn’t particularly minded,  _but_. If Suzaku had been there—

Lelouch averted his gaze and left the room, C.C. following close behind.

“Where is Nunnally, by the way?”

“Why?” It came out more forceful than he’d meant, laced with suspicion and distrust, enough to earn a quiet chuckle from behind. 

“No reason. Just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Like me.” 

“Sleepover,” he said, brusque despite giving a little, half-hoping that this way she would be more inclined to return the favor later. C.C. fell quiet until he flipped the lights in the kitchen and started tying the pink apron around his waist.

“What is it.” 

“Nothing.” She leaned her cheek into her curled fingers, arm propped against the edge of the island counter, as she slipped onto the metal stool and watched him with cat-like eyes. “I was just thinking how hypocritical your sermon was today.” 

Before he could snap back, she was interrupting again. “But that aside, you know why I’m here. Nephilim blood is addictive; my customers are getting impatient. Now, if you’d let me touch Nunnally—”

“ _No_.” Lelouch hissed it fiercely, glaring at C.C. over his shoulder and letting the pan he’d been holding clatter onto the stove. “Nunnally is off-limits.”

C.C. didn’t push the matter further. From then until Lelouch was straining the spaghetti, C.C. simply waited.  _Like a vulture_ , Lelouch thought distantly. C.C.’s presence always unnerved him. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything else from a demon. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the excess of food until he’d already set out his plate. He’d inadvertently made enough for  _two_ and balked upon the sudden realization _._

C.C. must have noticed because she was leaning across the counter the next moment, hair falling forward and brushing against his hand. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Lelouch stopped, pride choking the words. He reasoned he was just accustomed to cooking for himself and Nunnally and left it at that, pushing the plate towards C.C. without further explanation before finding another for his own. 

Demons didn’t really need to eat as far as he was aware, but C.C.’s penchant for food, or rather pizza more specifically, meant that at least they could. It would have been a waste otherwise, he continued reasoning, and if she rejected it—

—but she didn’t, much to his surprise, as she reached across him for a fork and stabbed it into the plate. They started and finished their unconventional meal in silence, priest beside demon, with neither bothering to say their graces. There was no need for pretenses when it was just them.

* * *

Lelouch was feeling light-headed and nauseous as he always did whenever C.C. visited.

“You—took more than a pint this time.” The words slurred a little bit like he was drunk, and he pushed his face into his hand with a barely audible groan.

“We have to acclimate your body to blood loss,” she said clinically with—a hint of concern? Maybe not as she was shouldering her bag and stepping towards the door hardly a second later. Lelouch swore he had something to ask her though. He swore he did. 

“And I wouldn’t bother with that angel.” 

Lelouch stiffened immediately, head snapping towards the sound of her voice that came to him as though through water.

“Falling in love with a human is a serious infraction. The higher-ups won’t let that go. Especially after your parents.”

* * *

Dropping in on the boy unannounced twice in one week was something C.C. had never quite done before, and it wasn’t exactly that she was  _worried_ about him. Her own words were ringing in her head regardless, and she was laughing at herself. She wasn’t one to listen to her own advice, and anyway, demons didn’t have hearts; how could they love?

She’d been having rather strange thoughts lately, but the fact that Lelouch was being hunted was undeniable. It was a wonder the boy hadn’t noticed for himself though maybe he’d gotten too comfortable with the Church’s false protection. The Church wouldn’t protect him from a demon who really wanted to kill him, and the blood lust she’d been sensing was overpowering. C.C. lingered a few streets away, trying to pinpoint the source of her anxiety. She’d been trying to find it for  _days_ , but it was good at hiding and too familiar with her. If it was who she thought, not even that fallen angel would be able to help him. Maybe she should have warned him after all, but she hadn’t wanted to entertain the possibility.

C.C. turned the corner, absorbed in her own thoughts, and froze. She noticed the emptiness of the street first, the silence later. There were plenty of cars parked in front and behind the church, and Lelouch was usually meeting with parishioners and committees until late evening. It shouldn’t have been this quiet, much less this barren.

Something like panic and dread, emotions she hadn’t felt in centuries, had her taking off across the street. She avoided the church for the most part; it weakened her, but she put all her strength into prying the doors open. The blast of cold, stale air that greeted her—and that stench—had her stepping back. It was a familiar smell. The smell of rot.

It took her another second to make out the form stooped over the steps of the altar, the rose window casting pale, colorful light on his figure. The name left her lips in a ghostly whisper, “Dash?”

Her eyes fell to the corpses scattered around him, red bleeding into the purple carpet. The addressed was laughing the next moment, however, and redirecting her attention. C.C. couldn’t quite rouse herself out of her stupor even as he stood and those bright red eyes met her own. A chill ran down her spine. This wasn’t Lelouch anymore though  _how_ this could happen,she didn’t know, eyes falling to the other’s lips as they curled into a devilish smile.

“Julius, now. It’s been a long time, C.C.”


	9. Possessed II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of possessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NSFW:** sex, kidnapping, coercion.

She should have expected the sex to be quick. This was Lelouch, after all. Or not exactly, but. She dug her heels into the back of his thighs, a clear indicator that even if he was finished,  _she_  wasn’t. He was already going soft inside of her, but she could probably still come if he put a little effort into it. It seemed Julius wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction, however, leaning back smugly as C.C. continued coaxing him on with legs clamped around his waist. Her expression remained neutral even as her hands twisted in the fabric of her pillow. That alone gave away some of the desperation she was currently feeling, and Julius picked up on it with a self-satisfied, lazy smirk growing across his face. His lips found the shell of her ear, and she shivered.

“I bet you’ve been wanting him to fuck you this entire time.”

Well, if he wasn’t going to satisfy her, she’d do it herself. She pushed back on the mattress with her elbows and reversed their positions in a split second. Lelouch— _Julius_ —sunk effortlessly into the sheets, barely audible grunt sending a spark of pleasure down her spine. She didn’t let it show, couldn’t let the demon latch onto anything else, and sunk her hips onto his own. C.C. gnawed on her lip swollen from too many spiteful kisses and rocked against him, placing palms along non-existent abs.

“I’m disappointed,” she breathed. “You used to be able to go longer than this,” she quipped, unfazed, and reached forward to pick at Lelouch’s hair splayed against the pillow. It’d grown so long since they’d first met. He really was pretty like a girl. 

A sudden thrust from below had her stomach clenching, thoughts cutting short and expression tightening momentarily before relaxing again into something of an annoyed grimace. He laughed at that, a rumbling short of chuckle deep and guttural, and he  _really_ reminded her of the boy then if it weren’t for the fingertips bruising into her hips ruining the illusion. (Lelouch would never, she reminded herself.) 

“Blame the body,” he muttered, sounding a little peeved even as the shit-eating grin never left his face. 

 _Fuck off_ , she thought and regretted being so easy. (She wouldn’t have if—) C.C.’s eyes fluttered shut, intent on coming soon when a brush against her breast had them snapping open again, Julius thumbing across the ugly scar with a hint of nostalgia coloring his sneer. 

“Same body,” he remarked like appraising an item at auction. 

“It’s convenient,” she lied and quickened her pace, reaching a finger between her legs to press at her clit since her partner obviously wouldn’t. She’d always hated men who sweet-talked their way through sex, and Julius so loved listening to himself talk.

She could feel the orgasm building, a swell of wanton  _emotion_ that was frankly embarrassing for a demon of her age and standing. It came, shuddering through her body and curling her toes—lips pursed in quiet, ephemeral ecstasy—and then it went. By the time C.C. had collected her thoughts, she’d already started climbing off him, shooting the demon a dispassionate glare as she did so. He stared back, incandescent red making it hard to remember his eyes had ever been any other color. She swung one leg over the mattress, and he stopped her midway from standing up.

She raised an eyebrow, a silent  _what?_

He licked his lips. “About that angel—”

* * *

The last thing he remembered was answering Nunnally’s call, the girl’s frantic sobbing and his failed attempts to reassure her. Lelouch gone, ten people dead, the church cordoned off, police at their home. He knew immediately who it must have been, but he hoped he was wrong. He only recently discovered the company Lelouch had been keeping, and saying he didn’t approve was an understatement. They’d had a rather large fight about it, Lelouch keeping tight-lipped as usual, and he hadn’t seen the other since. It was stupid of him; for his best friend to be associating with demons, he should’ve stayed around him  _more_ , not less. His mistake, and now he was paying for it.

The last thing he remembered was walking out the door, down the street, and then the explosion of a million stars across his vision, nothingness. Waking up from that state of suspended death was probably the worst thing he’d experienced thus far. Human bodies were so weak. 

Suzaku groaned and lolled his head onto something unexpectedly soft though his temple throbbed anyway, coherent thought coming to him at sporadic intervals through a fog of hazy confusion. Where—why—how—when—the clock on the opposite wall answered the last one, hour hand on 9 and minute hand at 2. He’d left around 4, so—

“Water?”

The familiar voice nearly had him jumping out of his skin. He scrambled up the— _bed_ and failed to notice just how haphazardly his clothes were hanging off his body. He was too preoccupied with the thing sitting at the bed’s edge, Lelouch and not Lelouch.

“ _What are you_ ,” he spat and regretted the vehement force he’d put into the words as a shock of pain trembled through him from his brain down to his nerves. He didn’t realize it, but he was exhausted—and dehydrated. Maybe the water would have helped, but  _fuck_ if he was going to take it from a  _demon_.

The other only chuckled, tugged at the collar of his loose dress shirt and shifted so he was more on the bed than off. Suzaku scrambled again though he could only get so far when he was  _shackled to the bedpost_. The realization had him turning white as a sheet.

“Let me go,” he growled and swallowed the panic, the tinge of fear. He was only afraid of failure, and as far as he was aware, he’d already failed. He’d kill Lelouch if he had to. (Though he only vaguely registered the thought, recoiled instinctively). It was better than seeing a demon keep him anyway, or so he was trying to convince himself as he futilely tamped down the flare of indignation and anger.

“Where’s Nunnally,” he spat again, hateful gaze narrowing as he jerked on his confines and kicked at the covers.

“Relax,” the demon drawled, red eyes unnerving. “I’m only interested in you.”

“Or,” he amended just as the door creaked open. “Should I say—we.”

Suzaku stiffened, the growl erupting from the back of his throat before he could stop himself. “ _You_. You did this, didn’t you? He trusted you!”

“Please,” C.C. replied coolly, ruffling a towel through her long, wet hair. “We just had a business deal.”

For some reason, Suzaku thought she almost sounded hesitant, but he attributed that to his muddled state of mind and struggled more violently, metal biting into his skin.

“ _I’ll kill you_ ,” he snarled and meant it. “I’ll kill you both.” 

He’d never felt so far from angelic—which meant he really must have fallen out of Heaven’s good graces. He was little more than human now and with all the dangerous emotions of one, but he didn’t care anymore. He had people he wanted to protect. 

C.C. stepped further into the room, ignoring his thrashings completely, and toed the door shut before sidling to Lelouch’s— _the demon’s_ —side. He hadn’t noticed in his initial state of shock and disgust, but the thing had hunched over, pressed a hand to his face with the half that Suzaku could see distorting. 

“Ugh,  _fuck_.” 

He sounded so like Lelouch that Suzaku balked, viridescent eyes trained intensely on the shivering form that was his best friend.

“Lelouch?” he intoned, vaguely hopeful and doubtful.

Strained gasps, shuddering. “ _Suzaku_ —help—”

“Lelouch!” But he was gone as soon as he appeared, violet eyes flickering to cool red, Suzaku feeling something inside him  _crushed_.

“He’ll smite you from the inside out,” C.C. hummed, sounding oddly pleased—and then pressing her cheek to the demon’s forehead. The strange display of affection—if it could be called that—caught Suzaku off guard, but she was pulling away just as quickly and picking the water bottle from his hands. “He’s half angel, after all.” 

She opened it, offered it, and the other took it with an ungainly grasp that spilled water all over the sheets.

“You’re feverish,” she observed, cupping a cheek in her hand, and suddenly it was as if Suzaku wasn’t there at all. Possessions were hopeless; he’d learned and remembered how many he’d tried to save and failed. Demons always managed to take their victims one way or another. Lelouch wouldn’t be an exception, nephilim or otherwise, but his chest constricted at the notion anyway, something else in him arguing  _but what if_ —

He tugged on his chains again, weaker, and only just realized that the right cuff was a little bigger, a little looser, and that he  _could_  hypothetically force his hand through if he tried.

Julius growled, not taking the teasing very kindly, as he wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth and lopped the empty bottle back into C.C.’s lap. The towel had fallen open some; she readjusted her grip.

“Never thought I’d see the day when C.C. would be weak-kneed for a  _human_.”

C.C. considered the statement quietly, blank-faced. She supposed it was an unnatural attraction she felt towards Lelouch, but nothing like this demon was insinuating—she didn’t think. He was shielding his face again, sweat collecting on his brow. She cocked her head to the side. “Shall we leave the angel to another time then.” She relied on Julius’s disorientation to disregard the change of topic, and he did, shoulders rising and falling.

Suzaku’s wrist chaffed, and there would probably be marks come morning. He was close, just another tug—and a shadow was falling over him, a sudden weight settling on his hips, the sound of a metallic click that had him blanching.  _Shit_.

“You’ve been a pain in my side for a while now, Kururugi,” and she reached over to fasten the other end back to the bedpost before sitting on him properly and grinding a bit. Her towel had fallen away  _completely_ now, and if he wasn’t so horrified, he might’ve flushed. Instead, he only blanched further.

She leaned back, and her fingers snagged on Julius’s sleeve, nodding to the incapacitated angel, inviting. “How do you utterly ruin an angel’s spirit, I wonder.”

Suzaku had been around long enough to know where this was going, the opening of her pale thighs. “Y-You’re kidding.” 

C.C. smiled. “I hate jokes.” 


	10. Onsen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the student council takes a trip to an onsen; c.c. makes a surprise visit to lelouch in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NSFW:** public sex, oral sex, blow jobs, dubious consent.

The same dream—an unidentified mass chasing him, a flat stretch of road that goes on forever, legs giving out beneath him. Lelouch feels even more tired than he normally does when he runs, or tries to, but the distance between him and it never changes. Usually, he doesn’t register what it is until it crushes him, but this time he realizes a split second earlier. 

 _Oh._  

Another meteor. 

Of course.

It doesn’t quite hit him, however, before he jolts awake, wide-eyed and panting. He immediately blames the sweat, flushed cheeks, and disorientation on the fact that he’d been dreaming; he’s still groggy and half asleep but conscious enough to know that  _something_ is off. In the few seconds it takes for him to regain his bearings, he thinks first that it’s a fever. It’s  _hot_ but not the sort of heat that comes from summer weather. Rather, it’s coming from a specific spot down his chest and between his—

He throws the covers aside before he can articulate the thought, mouth forming the word  _ **shit!**_  and sputtering halfway through because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to go on living if the student council wakes up too. 

“ _What are you doing?!_ ” he hisses through fingers clenched tightly over his mouth. “How—!”

C.C. slips off of him and wipes the string of saliva that follows her with the back of her hand. Her voice is hushed but just loud enough that he thinks he sees Rivalz shift in his futon two mats over. 

“The window was open,” she says like it’s the most logical explanation to his strangled question. It’s too dark to tell, but she’s smirking. She has to be; he can hear it in her voice. 

“ _Why_ —” But the question is cut off as soon as she’s mouthing over him again, tongue running up the underside of his erection before giving a particularly pronounced suck that has Lelouch squirming. Something like a squeal leaks through, and he’s clamping his jaw shut with both hands this time. 

“I’ve been following you all along. I’m surprised you didn’t notice,” she hums with another upward tick of her lips and a hot, teasing breath over the head of his dick. So, the girl on the train, and the one in the hot springs—? He’s  _furious_ , but she’s taking him back into her warm mouth, and suddenly that tight sensation in his lower gut is more important. His hips arch off the mattress, toes curling and head knocking against the pillow.  _Fuck_.

“ _C.C._ ,” he manages, desperate, with a nervous flick of his eyes toward the sleeping forms on his left. “If you keep—I’m gonna— _shit_.”

She takes that as a cue and swallows.

“Are you insane?!” He yanks his pajamas on as soon as she leans away, breathing fast with bright red ears and humiliation etched into every line of his scowl. C.C. thinks it’s cute. 

She swallows again before answering to wash down the bitter aftertaste and presses a forefinger to her lips. “Shh. Didn’t you tell me he’s a light sleeper?” 

She nods toward Suzaku and stands. Lelouch isn’t in the right frame of mind to hold a conversation, but he tries stringing words into sentences anyway, and the first thing he blurts is: “You came along just for— _this_?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, straddling the window sill and dangling one leg out. “This was extra. I couldn’t sleep.”

He doesn’t get to grill her any further on why or, more importantly, how she plans on paying—he thinks he already knows. She’s gone, and there’s the briefest spark of concern, but Suzaku’s groggy voice has him freezing the next moment and forgetting the witch entirely.

“Lelouch…? What are you doing?”


	11. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lelouch turns down acceptance to an ivy league university abroad, and c.c. tries to convince him to go.

C.C. dawdled near the gate, knocking her head against stone wall every few minutes as lazy clouds drifted overhead and occasionally blocked out the sun. The air was tepid, the sweltering sort of stillness that smothered, and her uniform hung stiff and heavy on her small frame. She picked at the hem of her white blouse, the pleats in her dark skirt, and wondered how much longer he’d keep her waiting. School grounds were eerily silent when students were in class, suffocatingly so. All she had were her thoughts, doubts, and the letter pinched between her fingertips.

“Suzaku.” 

She’d missed the bell, but the trickle of students had grown into a crowd, and the resultant murmur and Suzaku’s passing voice had pulled her out of her thoughts.

“C.C.—” A hint of surprise, eyebrows jumped up as he quickly released Euphemia’s hand. An apologetic smile tugged at his lips as he ran fingers through his hair and re-shouldered his bag. “Euphy, go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Oh—sure.” 

C.C. didn’t miss the beat of hesitation, but the girl was too kind and too trusting. 

“Bye, C.C.” She waved, eyes lingering on Suzaku. “See you.” 

C.C. waited until she was out of earshot, until she’d turned the corner, before sidling up to the boy’s side and leaning into him with something like a smirk. “She’s too good for you, you know.” 

Suzaku scoffed, but he was used to her antics by now, stepping away and loosening his tie. “Lelouch said you were sick.” The tone conveyed concern, but the raised eyebrow demanded answers. C.C. shrugged, laced fingers behind her back, and turned toward the road she’d come.

“Not quite,” she hummed, inserting a pause to keep him on his toes and flicking her wrist with the paper to catch his attention. “I was avoiding him.” 

“What?” Suzaku balked. His gaze skipped to her hands briefly before returning to her face. “Don’t tell me,” he teased and slipped the tie from his neck. “You two fighting again?”

“Kururugi.” C.C. leveled him an unamused glare over her shoulder. “Walk with me.” 

* * *

“Are you sure?”

C.C. stopped. She’d expected “you’re insane” or “you can’t do this,” but it was that instead, and there was something inherently funny and sad about it. The paper had crumpled in her hand without her noticing, and now she was looking down at a messy logo and words that were blurring together the longer she stared. Her voice stayed steady and her posture stiff.

“There are times you have to distance yourself from those you love because you love them.” 

“Are you telling me you love Lelouch?” Suzaku didn’t miss a beat.

“Who knows,” C.C. intoned, pressing on and changing topic. “It’s getting late.”

“I’ve always hated that about you,” he sighed, and she didn’t get to hear exactly what he hated before he was pulling up beside her. It really  _was_ getting late, sun casting long shadows and streetlights flickering on, but he hadn’t answered her question yet. Suzaku sighed a second time and shoved both hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“Alright,” he said, but the word fell heavy from his lips after a pregnant pause and a lot of fidgeting. It settled into the pit of C.C.’s stomach, and she felt—oddly reassured.

“This doesn’t make us friends,” Suzaku reminded.

“Co-conspirators,” and C.C. stuck out her hand.

* * *

“It’s been a few days. Maybe directly confronting him would have been better after all.” 

“Lelouch is sharp when he wants to be. He’d see through the ruse, and then everything would be ruined, wouldn’t it.” 

“That’s—“ 

C.C.’s lips were soft. She stood on tip toes to reach him, fingers curled in the collar of his shirt. It was awkward the first time, not so much anymore, as Suzaku’s hands naturally twined around her waist. It was a little worrisome, but he went along with it. They were just pretending after all. 

“A while longer,” she breathed and pushed her forehead into the front of his shirt to hide her face.

* * *

The look of betrayal made Suzaku’s stomach flip even though this hadn’t been his idea to begin with, even though he hadn’t  _really_ wanted to betray Lelouch. Whatever had happened between them in the past was in the past—or so he told himself. There might have been an inkling of sick satisfaction somewhere, but this wasn’t the time to entertain it.

“What’s the meaning of this.” Cold, calculated—Lelouch was a good actor; C.C. was even better.

“What it looks like.” She found Suzaku’s hand and tangled their fingers. If she hadn’t, he never would’ve noticed the trembling.

“Sorry,” he muttered and gave C.C.’s hand a little, reassuring squeeze back.

“…I don’t believe this.”

C.C. stiffened and covered herself with a scoff and a short bark of laughter. “Believe what you will, but you know I hate jokes.“ She paused. “I was looking for an opportunity to tell you. It might as well be now.”

“C.C., I—” Lelouch reached out, and Suzaku instinctively stepped in front of her. The sound of a cellphone interrupted, however, Lelouch stopping to answer. By the time the call was over, a few terse words neither of them could make out, Lelouch was looking deflated and almost resigned. He turned and left without another word. It wasn’t until they heard the rev of his car pulling out of the driveway that Suzaku relaxed.

"You okay?”

“Not bad,” she laughed, the sound hollow, and hugged her arms close to herself. “I think he fell for it.”

Suzaku paused, alarms going off in his head that he was overstepping boundaries. It was a split second of indecision before he was tugging her against him with a gentle touch and pursed lips as he pretended not to notice the tears.


	12. Baby Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. is pregnant and tries to pick out a baby name. very loosely connected to [unholy trinity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513940).

C.C. rolled onto her side, feeling quite satisfied with herself this morning, and stretched her arms out in a great feline-like yawn. She’d somehow crushed Cheese-kun in the middle of the night. The soft plush hat dug into her side, but she refused to open her eyes because she knew that once she did, she would have to face the reality of the situation. Which was that her days with Lelouch were numbered, and the fact that he didn’t seem to be nearly as concerned about it as she was, well. She didn’t let it bother her. She wouldn’t be C.C. if she did. It took another minute or so, but eventually she blinked awake. Last night’s pleasant dreams lingered on her eyelids for just a moment before fading away.

Foggy sunlight filtered through the blinds and landed on Lelouch and his computer in dusty slices. It illuminated his back but not his face, his long fingers but not his hands. She watched him for a bit, tie loose around his neck, tapping his life away at the dead end job his father had shoehorned him into. Not that he was being  _passive_ about it if his Black Knights pet project was any indication, but it was still depressing thinking about it in those terms. Slowly, a smirk grew into C.C.’s expression, and she stretched out lazily once more. When did she get so sentimental, she wondered. Hadn’t she decided from the very beginning that she would see this through? If only because she thought he was an interesting boy, so there was really no reason for her resolve to waver, was there?

Her fingers skimmed across the skin of her stomach and paused. They rested there, drumming idly against the pale flesh before the movement caught Lelouch’s peripheral attention, and he swung around in his chair with as severe an expression as ever.

“Where were you the other night.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a command, but he knew better than to make demands of her. C.C. shrugged and pulled Cheese-kun from behind her head. She hugged him protectively against her chest, buried her chin in his yellow softness, and eyed Lelouch with innocent curiosity.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Lelouch’s frown deepened. “He’s been avoiding me. So, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

His expression soured further. “Don’t lie to me, C.C. I told you to—”

“Make nice?”

She enjoyed watching him struggle for words. She enjoyed even more watching him choke on his silly ultimatums. Maybe he was older than her in years, but as far as she was concerned, he was still a naive virgin boy. It was as if he’d guessed what she was thinking which, granted, he seemed to be able to do more often nowadays. The next she raised her head, he’d crossed the room and pinned her down with his presence. Amber met violet, and C.C. raised an eyebrow.

His hands curled in the rumbled sheets.

“I don’t like being interrogated, Lelouch.”

“And I don’t like having my friend and my—”

“Your?” she asked expectantly, clearly amused, but Lelouch wasn’t one to fall for such blatant provocation. He leaned back off the bed, balanced a knee against the edge, and sighed.

“You said you’d tell me if you found out anything, didn’t you?”

“And I didn’t,” C.C. answered, propping herself up on one elbow as she smoothed the wrinkles from Cheese-kun’s distended belly.

Lelouch didn’t seem convinced.

“I didn’t,” C.C. repeated. “I have no idea why he would be avoiding you. If I did, I would’ve told you. Wasn’t that what we agreed?”

His gaze lingered on her long enough that she might have thought he was appreciating something other than her words. Any longer and she would have, but he tore himself away just in time, just before she could accuse him of lechery. Another sigh filled the room, and he returned to the desk without another word.

C.C. waited and listened for the sound of computer keys and clicks. He must have been thinking rather hard about what she said because they didn’t come til much later. She waited until he’d settled back into a good rhythm before speaking again.

“I’ve been thinking; we should give it a name, shouldn’t we?”

Lelouch stiffened immediately. He hated this topic. She wasn’t terribly fond of it either, but knowing he  _hated_  it instantly made her like it better. She wouldn’t have been C.C. if she didn’t ruffle his feathers time and again.

“Why,” he dead panned and returned to his work though his pace had slowed considerably. It had almost come to a halt. Only pride and affected aplomb kept his hands moving across the keyboard.

C.C. cupped a cheek and watched him, amused as ever. “Because it gets tiring referring to it as ‘it’ every time.”

“Wouldn’t naming just be counterproductive?”

She could almost hear his eyebrow rising as she answered with a noncommittal shrug. “But I’ve already picked names.”

The notion stopped him once more. “What names.”

“Well.” C.C. traced the faint, off white patterns in the sheets and shifted in her underwear which consisted of his dress shirt and black briefs. “I was thinking Lelouch Jr. for a boy.”

That earned her a rather incredulous glance over the shoulder. ‘ _Really?’_  seemed to be the unspoken sentiment, but he let her finish.

“And… Marianne for a girl.”

“No. Absolutely not. Pick another.” His answer was immediate, brusque, and absolute. But that didn’t stop her from questioning it.

“And why not? I thought you were fond of your mother.”

“I am. Which is exactly why I don’t want you using it.”

* * *

C.C. and Lelouch had sex rarely. Usually when his shoulders were particularly tense or his gaze particularly far away. Then, in the middle of the night, whenever Lelouch would finally slip under the covers, C.C. would roll over and straddle his hips. He stopped asking what she was doing after the first time. Now he accepted her wordlessly, and as much as C.C. had come to view sex as a formality in the past, or even a chore on occasion, she liked when his fingers knotted in her hair or when his voice grew a little hoarse against her ear. It wasn’t the best sex she’d ever had, but it was surprisingly intimate. Lelouch really poured his heart into whatever he did, and it was even starting to warm hers.

Lelouch’s stamina was god awful, though, but he was getting a little better and trying a little harder. C.C. could tell, and she would’ve laughed at him for it if she didn’t think the boy would die from embarrassment.

Tonight was such a night. They’d returned late, and the prospects from Ohgi’s report were less than optimistic. If the Black Knights fell at this point, nothing would stand in the way of Britannia’s complete economic domination, not the Six Houses of Kyoto, the puppet prime minister, or the media. If Lelouch didn’t get his act together—

But C.C. didn’t really care about that at the end of the day. If she cared, it was because of their contract. It was because Lelouch cared so desperately, and she found it amusing.

Nunnally had gone to bed and left a note on the dining table about leftovers in the fridge. The girl must have assumed they’d gone on one of their many late-night “dates.” Lelouch fingered the piece of paper with a bitter look on his face. She would’ve asked what he was going to do now if she thought he had an answer. As it was, they didn’t speak. There wasn’t a word to be had between them from the time they reentered the house to when Lelouch finally turned down his laptop at close to four. From the way he fell into bed, he must have still been stuck. It was rare for him to be stuck so long, but then again, the market was a fickle creature.

On any given day, he never would’ve initiated anything because his mind was always elsewhere. The moment he stopped tossing, C.C. shifted to his side. Her legs climbed over his and sat.

Nothing like surprise showed on his face anymore. He was used to her, but even as she applied pressure, he seemed to be elsewhere thinking of other things. Someone besides C.C. might have thought it was another woman.

C.C. leaned down. She leaned far enough that her hair formed a curtain around their faces, and Lelouch’s irises glowed in the near dark.

“Do you want to have sex?”

There was a pause. He stared at her as if he didn’t understand her question. Just as she was about to repeat it—

“No.” This flat-out rejection surprised her. He tried to turn onto his side, but C.C.’s hips had him locked in the supine position.

“Why not?”

“Do  _you_ want to have sex?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be offering, would I—oh.”

Slowly, but surely, C.C.’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “I see,” she ended and straightened.

“See what?”

“We haven’t had sex since you found out I was pregnant, have we? Don’t worry, Lelouch. You can’t doubly impregnate someone who’s already pregnant.”

“I know how basic anatomy works!” Lelouch snapped, a little horrified whenever she mentioned the-thing-that-must-not-be-named. She could see the heat rising in his face and coloring his ears.

But in the end, it seemed he was in a mood. C.C. could never get anywhere with him when he was in a mood, so she let her weight fall to one side and sunk back into the mattress. Her legs remained partially curled around his waist, but he had just enough room to turn, so he did. She stared at his unyielding back.

“You can tell me what’s bothering you, Lelouch.”

“I know.”

And then silence.

She returned to her side of the bed and buried her face in Cheese-kun. Well, as long as he knew.

* * *

“Did you make breakfast, Nunnally?” C.C. asked, descending the stairs clad in Lelouch’s tight dress shirt and one of his little black panties she’d taken for her own.

“Good morning, C.C.,” the younger greeted with as bright a smile as usual as she wheeled out of the kitchen. “No, Brother made food earlier this morning before he left and put it in the oven for us.”

 _For you_ , C.C. almost corrected because they both knew she would only accept a large super supreme pizza for breakfast. Lelouch had come to know as well, or so she’d thought before her eyes fell on the empty coffee table, and she stopped halfway across the room to the telephone.  

C.C. blinked. She lifted her head to where Nunnally sat, waiting with the table already set and the food cooling in the pale morning sunlight. “Nunnally, did you see where Lelouch left his card?”

“Ah.” Nunnally hesitated, tilted her head to the side with a small half-smile and scratched her temple. “I don’t think Brother left his card…”

“What.” C.C.’s mouth formed a tight thin line. Did he mean to starve her as retribution for last month’s bill? It couldn’t be helped. Pizza Hut had a special.

“He did leave this note though?” She slid something across the dining table with reluctance and a bit of nervousness in her voice.

It was the blank side of a note card and Lelouch’s perfectly scribbled handwriting.

_C.C._

_There’s food in the fridge. You're getting fat. Eat healthier._

_\- Lelouch_

“I’m sure he’s just joking, though!” Nunnally quickly amended when she saw C.C.’s eyes stop. The young girl pouted and set down her silverware. “Brother makes such bad jokes sometimes!”

C.C.’s expression didn’t change because she had interpreted the note far differently than his sister had, and she supposed that was the whole point. Lelouch was a self-entitled brat of a boy on more than one occasion, but he also had decorum. If he was going to insult her, she would’ve expected it to her face. This was something else. This was his roundabout way of telling her pregnant women shouldn’t eat pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner without invoking Nunnally’s suspicion. But if he were here, she would’ve argued that wasn’t he overreacting a little to some vomit in the sink? Morning sickness was normal—whether she ate pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner or not.

Or maybe this was retribution after all for him having to clean it up.

Either way, C.C. was displeased, and it showed. She settled at the table with Nunnally blustering beside her, saying she was going to give her big brother a lesson on how to treat his girlfriend properly and that she was honestly disappointed in him when C.C. laughed very lightly and dispelled the other’s attempt to comfort.

“It’s alright, Nunnally. I think he’d die from heartache if you lectured him. I have a few ideas of my own on how to help him apologize.”

She flipped the note card over, cupped her chin with one hand and stabbed the lukewarm egg on her plate. C.C. didn’t want to deal too harsh a punishment, just enough to get the message across that if he wasn’t going to part with his credit card willingly, she’d have it by force.

But, she had to admit, his cooking was decent. She’d had worse eggs.

* * *

“C.C. … what is this?!”

He thought it was strange C.C. had come to the door to see him off, but now he understood why. She’d been waiting for this, for his reaction, and she got it.

“I took all the change I could find in the house and bought Cheese-kun stickers. You know, the ones that would be really hard to take off. I think they’re supposed to be for the bumper, actually.”

She tilted her head at the plastered car; so many yellow blobs crowded the side windows that looking out of them would be a challenge from now on. Oh, well.

“In my opinion, it looks much better now.”

“I take this car to  _work_!”

Lelouch whipped around before she could snark back, intent on—on—

—on doing  _something_  to vent his frustration, but C.C. had disappeared inside the house and locked the door. She reappeared at the window. Her breath fogged up the glass, and in the condensation, she very carefully and very slowly wrote:

You can slide your credit card under the door.


	13. Dangerous Liaisons I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of dangerous liaisons. loosely based off the chinese film _dangerous liaisons_ (2012).

“…She’s my cousin.”

“So?”

C.C. smiled over the lip of her wine glass, eyes a mischievous yellow with flecks of gold and red in the fading twilight.

“You’re saying you can’t do it?”

“I’m saying I  _won’t_.”

He was annoyed. Angry, even. Slender fingers trembled on the stem of his flute. The corners of his lips twitched. He wanted to say something. He was just too proud to say it. C.C.’s smirk widened, and she flipped hair over her shoulder with all the carefree attitude of a schoolgirl.

"Hmph.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She paused, eyeing the surface of his champagne as it shivered while hers remained perfectly still. If she commented, would he blame the tell-tale tic on a small earthquake?

“What are you thinking, C.C.?”

“Nothing,” she repeated. “Just that if you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

Lelouch’s frown spread further across his face until she wasn’t sure whether he was upset or constipated.

“If you hurt Euphie… or Suzaku for that matter…”

She waved off his concerns and took another sip of wine. The tingle of intoxication had just begun to reach her fingertips, and she wasn’t quite in the mood to argue.

“He left me for his perfect princess. I simply want to show him she’s not so perfect. Am I wrong?”

Lelouch scoffed. “Euphie would never.” Then, “Fine.”

He swirled the dredges of honey yellow liquid, surprising C.C. with how much he’d drunk when she wasn’t looking.

“Do your worst. You’re just wasting your time.”

He must have noticed that she stopped paying attention, that her eyes had caught on the debutante of the ball herself linked arm-in-arm with her new (and C.C.’s old) brown-haired, green-eyed beau. He must have noticed because then it was his turn to smirk and gloat. All the pomp that his upbringing afforded him came to light as soon as he thought he caught on weakness.

“I didn’t know witches had the heart to be jealous.”

“Jealous?” C.C. laughed, finishing the rest of her wine with a tip of her head and one fell swoop before meeting Lelouch’s eyes again. She stepped close, closer than he would have liked. She could see the flicker of irritation, but she pulled at his tie all the same until his head was level with hers and she could have kissed him if she liked.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

They were drawing attention from nearby party-goers. Some badly concealed whispers and stares set the hairs of Lelouch’s neck on end.

“Oh, you know. The woman you’ve been eyeing all evening. First gingers, then red heads. When will your obsession end, Lelouch?”

She let go when he jerked back and nearly knocked the waiter into the next attendee.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly as C.C. dropped her empty glass on the other’s tray and returned to observing the dance floor.

“So, Casanova has a new target,” she continued over the boy’s indignant squawk of “Who are you calling Casanova?”

“Mind if I ask the reason? Or are you just attracted to the frail, weak types?”

Lelouch looked thoroughly displeased as he tugged on the collar of his dress shirt and tried disproving her accusation by looking anywhere  _but_  the red head. Which only proved it more.

“Her name is Kallen Stadtfeld.”

“Oh? So you know her name now?”

“It’s not—” For a moment, the boyish earnestness came back then disappeared just as quickly behind a mask of indifference, forced as it was. “Tch. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“No, you don’t,” C.C. agreed, picking the unfinished drink from his hand despite the slight resistance. “But she’ll never fall for you, you know. Not with your reputation anyway.”

“And besides,” she added, raising the glass and avoiding the edge where his lips had imprinted, “She’s not as frail and weak as you think.”

“I told you, that’s not—”

“Let’s make a wager.”

His eyes narrowed until they were slits, and she could hardly see the whites of them. Only bright purple irises stared back, challenging and doubtful, until he heaved a sigh and his shoulders dropped in defeat. She’d caught him. She always did.

“What wager?”

“If you can’t make her fall in love with you, I get half of your estate.”

Lelouch balked at the offer. Distaste quickly spread across his face, but C.C. only sipped at the stolen champagne and smiled.

“A quarter,” he counter-offered.

“A third.”

“You don’t need a third of my estate to build a Pizza Hut. A quarter is more than enough.”

He knew her well, but then he also should’ve known he was fighting a losing battle.

“A third,” she repeated, and it wasn’t until the orchestra changed tempo from slow promenade to dreamy waltz that she heard him speak again, disgruntled and just a tad defeated.

“A third,” he said slowly. “And if I win?”

“You can have me.”

That earned a short bark of laughter followed by an incredulous raise of the brow. “Who in their right mind would want you?”

C.C. discarded her second glass of the night then tapped at her forehead, where bangs rested against scarred skin, and smirked. “I mean, me and everything else. All the questions I’ve refused to answer. You still want to know, don’t you?”

Lelouch sobered immediately. “Really.”

“Really. I want to see the prince make a fool of himself. But under one condition.”

She pulled him close again, so close he could nearly taste the sharp pungency of her breath. The thought flickered across his mind that C.C. really was drunk for once and that this was a  _bad_  idea. But he was too proud and stubborn, and he let her continue tugging until their lips just barely met. A hair’s breadth away. He could hear the escalation of whispers and feel the inadvertent reddening of the tips of his ears, but if there was anything Lelouch hated more than public infamy, it was losing.

“You can’t fall in love yourself. Fall in love, and you lose.”

He scoffed in spite of the situation, in spite of the tremor in his stomach and the faint flush of his cheeks that he blamed on alcohol and summer heat. He scoffed and returned just as smugly, “Really now. The only woman I’ve ever come close to falling in love with is you.”

Her bright smile caught him off guard.

“Liar.” She let him go and absentmindedly smoothed the front of his jacket. “Liar.”

There was a beat of silence and a sudden awkwardness that hadn’t ever existed between them before. “Was it that obvious?” Lelouch chuckled weakly, unconvincingly, before stealing away to make good on their bet.

“Everything,” he affirmed, all business-like and seriousness once more.

“All of me,” she agreed. He didn’t seem to like the way she phrased it, but he let it go and disappeared only to reappear again at the other end of the room, all suave smiles and sweet nothings. She watched him go with a sinking feeling. Kallen wouldn’t be so easily won over, but he could try. She really did want to see the prince make a fool of himself, but then again… maybe Anya was right. Maybe they really were made for one another, and maybe she was making a mistake.

Maybe.


	14. Dangerous Liaisons II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of dangerous liaisons.

“You’ve gone too far this time, C.C.”

She had barely coaxed the hearth to flame. It had just begun to spark and fizzle when the doors burst open and Lelouch strode in with a triage of maids at his heels.

“Where is he.”

If C.C. flinched when he arrived, Lelouch didn’t notice. His hair was windswept and his collar loose. One of the girls tugged at his sleeve. He shook her off like a fly and stepped into the middle of the room as though he’d find his answers there only to be met with cold, unreceptive silence instead. C.C. hadn’t moved an inch; there wasn’t even a whisper or nod of acknowledgement, just a flick of the wrist as she threw the fire iron aside and stretched her limbs. 

“Your Highness, please, Madam isn’t meeting with any—”

“It’s fine.” C.C. sat by the fireplace, legs hugged to her chest through her sheer night gown and eyes concentrated on the burgeoning fire. She could have turned on the heater, she supposed. But she liked this better. The crackle kept her company. 

She waved off the staff, and they retreated with bowed heads and apologetic murmurs. By the time the doors closed again, Lelouch had already advanced to the other side of the room, pacing like a caged animal with nowhere left to run. 

” _Where is he_ ,” he repeated, frantic almost, and stopped in front of her with an expectant glare, but she only continued staring blankly and mutely. 

“How did you do it,” he spat, teeth gritted and fingers  _aching_  to wrap around her neck. If he could, he would, but then her gaze swept over him, and he felt his resolve waver. 

“Who?" 

Lelouch growled. “You know who.  _Suzaku_. Where is he.” 

C.C. straightened. The hem of her sleepwear dragged on the floor like a wedding train. Arms crossed and expression placid, she looked as innocent as she sounded, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that they were both impeccable liars and probably damned for it. 

"I wouldn’t know,” she answered, just as evasive and languid as she usually was, but Lelouch was in no mood to humor her. He had no  _time_ , so if she wasn’t going to be cooperative, then—

His eyes scanned the room for any sign of Suzaku having come or gone. Nothing registered at first. The room was uncharacteristically spic and span. There wasn’t a chair out of place or a stain on any furniture. If C.C. wasn’t there, Lelouch might have thought he had the wrong address. As it was, he only continued pacing. C.C. followed at a distance, unfazed as ever. 

“What are you doing?”

“He’s here, isn’t he? Suzaku!”

No answer. The fireplace alone snapped back, and before she could do the same, he wheeled around. She almost ran into him, but instead they were only uncomfortably close—breath against cheek and hand against chest. C.C. put a little pressure on his shoulder, and they separated.

“He’s not here.”

“Then what’s this?”

Lelouch lifted a jacket from the corner, crumpled and forgotten and very sorry looking but stained lipstick red on the collar and wine burgundy on the sleeve. Lelouch didn’t need to smell it to know C.C.’s scent mixed with Suzaku’s musk and whatever depravity they entertained the night before. His frown turned into a grimace.

“Suzaku!”

Rapid steps took him down the nearest hall to the first door on the right.

C.C. reached out a hand as if to stop him, but he’d already latched onto the handle. It jiggled back and forth without giving way. She watched him struggle. She listened to the frustrated clicks, the jamming of the lock, and then the loud, reverberating knocks on wood with perfect stoicism. More clicks, more knocks, more shouts met with stale air. Lelouch turned on her, and there was hate in his eyes. 

“Open the door.”

C.C.’s eyes flicked back the way they came. 

“C.C., open the door." 

She wasn’t avoiding his stare per se, but she knew what she’d find if she met it, and she’d had enough of being judged for a lifetime, deserved or otherwise.

“ _C.C._ ”

The sound of desperation finally made her turn. The look of bitterness and betrayal made her give up the key. It was a small loss on her part, the kind Lelouch wouldn’t remember later, but it was enough. She was still weak if the first hint of heartbreak could make her give up so easily. Weak and maybe a little in love.

The thought was enough to make her leave as soon as Lelouch palmed the key. He already knew what he’d find, so the words were leaving his mouth before the door even opened all the way. “Get up, Suzaku. You’re late for your wedding.”

* * *

“Is he awake?” she asked, voice light and airy, lounging on the couch opposite the fireplace with a blank expression. Lelouch didn’t deign to reply, shutting the door with a loud, inelegant  _thud_  before taking quick steps back the way he came. He stopped at the threshold, though, with something inexplicable in the lines of his face. C.C. would have said it was betrayal if she didn’t know better.

“They’ll gossip. Or worse,” he said, brusque with eyes focused elsewhere.

C.C. laughed and tilted her head to the side. "You’re talking to a woman who’s already on the fringe of society. What do I care?" 

"You do.” The words fell from his lips so forcefully C.C. nearly questioned herself. ( _Do I?_ )

“‘Do your worst.’” She smiled, and it was empty. “That’s what you said. Did you really think I would do any less?”

Lelouch scoffed and shook his head. “You’ll never change.”

“Admit it,” she cut in, interrupted him just as he had a hand on the latch. “Hate me if you want, but I’m the only one who remotely challenges you.”

There was a pause that lasted half a heartbeat. No yes or no, just silence and the sound of retreating footsteps as the door down the hall creaked open. 


	15. Target Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. and suzaku spend some time practicing their marksmanship pre-zero requiem.

It was the first time C.C. didn’t feel completely put off by someone laughing at her. She could hear his voice clearly over the sound of shattering bottles, glass scattering.

“I didn’t think anyone centuries old could be such a bad shot.”

It took a moment after the air had gone still and C.C.’s ears had stopped ringing to register exactly how  _hollow_ the laughter had sounded, but she shrugged it off all the same, shoulders rising and falling in silent contempt. 

“By what definition is seven out of ten a bad shot, Kururugi?” She let chagrin take her for a moment, hadn’t felt genuinely insulted since God knows when, and it was almost—refreshing. She smiled faintly, just faintly, and offered the gun to her morning companion, but he merely shook his head and produced one of his own from around his waist. He turned, aimed, and suddenly all the bottles on the opposite railing were in millions of pieces across the floor.

“Like I said, bad—”

Suzaku had felt the barrel of a gun to his back too many times for it to be surprising. The only unexpected thing here was the person behind the trigger.

“If I killed you now—” There was a tremor in her voice that he could just pick up if he listened close enough.

“—it wouldn’t change a thing,” he finished, hand catching and twisting her wrist as he pivoted in an almost mechanical step-wise fashion. She was on her back the next moment, head hurting a little from where it hit the hard veranda floor. He was careful not to settle his weight on her, careful to hover rather than straddle. Her wrist burned from the way he’d twisted it, gun in his hand that he was throwing away the next moment along with his own.

“Coming, Empress?” he asked, quietly offering her an arm for support as he was struggling to his feet and stepping into glass shards.

She didn’t take it, standing by herself and dusting off the knees of her straitjacket. “After you, Knight of Zero.”


	16. Sword x Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. and suzaku find solace in one another pre-zero requiem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was an old gift written for [@shiitsuu](http://shiitsuu.tumblr.com/) ilu ( ´ ▽ ` )

“Aren’t you going to stop him.” It was a demand, not a question, and C.C. never obeyed demands especially those from petulant, self-absorbed little boys. Not Lelouch and certainly not Suzaku, but maybe she’d changed a bit in the last few months if now she at least answered.

“Would you let me?”

There was a pause. He was in her side view, had entered his quarters rather ungracefully with a slam of the door, and now he was just standing in the middle of the room. Shaking—trembling—even if he tried to keep the neutral face. There were hairline fractures in his stoicism, and C.C. hadn’t been the first to notice.

“Help him,” Lelouch had breathed against her ear when they were both half asleep, and she’d only murmured in reply, “Is that an order from the Emperor?”

“No, just a selfish request from a warlock.”

She wondered at her new altruism and slipped to the floor.

“If—” Suzaku started, and his hands formed fists at his side. “If you had a way that even I couldn’t—”

“Hypocritical to the end, I see. You hate me then ask me to stop him. If I did, would you hate me for that too?”

“I don’t—!”

She scoffed a little at his eagerness to deny. It was true. Lelouch wasn’t the only one who could read him like a book, but she couldn’t say his next words didn’t surprise her at least a little.

“I don’t hate you,” he finished, fists tight at his side and mouth set in a firm, straight line when he was done. They were measured, careful, weighted words.

C.C. contemplated how to reply as she flipped to the front page of the newspaper on her lap and traced the lines of Lelouch’s face. (Just as pompous as Zero’s debut, she thought distantly.)

“I could give him my Code.”

Suzaku’s eyes widened. She didn’t need to see him to know.

“He’s qualified,” she sighed and stood. She walked past the other and felt the impatience radiating from his stiff body. He stiffened even more when her hair brushed against his forearm, and she might have laughed at some other time. Now, however, she simply continued until she reached the opposite wall with their portrait and crossed her arms.

She pivoted lightly and caught his dark eyes. “But he doesn’t want it.”

There were angry footsteps. He took long strides to reach her, expression contorted, and C.C. watched him completely unfazed and only stepped back when he was close to—wrapping his fingers around her throat? Hitting her? Whatever the case, it wasn’t fear that made her back hit the painting. It was simple aversion. She wasn’t a masochist if she could help it, and strangling was definitely one of the more unpleasant ways to go.

He made such an impact with his fist that the canvas cracked, and his hand went straight through.

“Then force it on him! He’s forced enough on everyone, the world,  _me_.”

His other curled at her side; he bowed his head, and the world blurred. His voice cracked, but he kept talking as though he couldn’t stop.

"Force it on him,” he repeated. “Because I—I can’t—I don’t want to lose—”

C.C. cupped his face. It wasn’t a loving gesture, but Suzaku took comfort out of it anyway. He pressed his wet cheek into her palm and looked away, exhausted from pleading and ashamed, until he felt pressure on his chin.

“If I did, he would never forgive me.”

It was a soft voice. Vulnerable. Any other tone would have driven him away; she was as adept a manipulator as her counterpart, but Suzaku was too tired to care. He let her lift his face, and then he let her kiss him.

A long, hard kiss with bodies flush against one another, and fingers tangled in his hair. Clumsy groping because he wasn’t thinking of her when his lips parted, when her hot breath skirted his jawline and left only further confusion in its wake. Desperate little pants as he worked to undo the clasps and zippers on her jacket, as she effortlessly slipped the Knight of Zero’s uniform from his shoulders and let it pool on the floor alongside the cape.

“Have you calmed down?” she murmured, teeth tugging on his lower lip.

Suzaku nodded dazedly. He still wasn’t thinking of her, not really, but he let C.C. fill his senses anyway as he buried his face into the crook of her neck and wrapped lean arms around pale, thin waist to hoist against his hips. This wasn’t his first time, and it wasn’t hers either. So he didn’t need to be gentle. (She really didn’t deserve his kindness anyway.)

Her legs circled him; heels bit into his back as bright and challenging eyes stared him down in front.  _“Show me the extent of your grief,”_ she seemed to say.  _“And I’ll show you mine.”_


	17. ICU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. and suzaku visit lelouch in the ICU.

“Mrs. Lamperouge?” 

“Miss,” C.C. corrected, setting her magazine aside a second later. Something faltered in the nurse’s expression before returning to its benign, crowd-pleasing norm. 

“My apologies. And is this…?”

Suzaku stood up as soon as she’d entered the cramped waiting room that was cozy in a way hospitals shouldn’t be. “I’m his friend.” 

The boy stiffened like he was being interrogated, and C.C. nearly rolled her eyes, crossed leg faintly bouncing in agitation. No matter what, Lelouch  _had_ been her husband. She still cared. Before the nurse could finish saying  _I see_ , she was cutting in with uncharacteristic, irritated impatience. 

“May we go in?” With perfectly penciled eyebrow raised in an arch and one hand reaching down to pull on the stiletto that’d come loose, C.C. was almost intimidating. The nurse found herself vaguely wondering  _who_ these people were before clearing her throat and nodding to the exit.

“He just woke up. He may be a little disoriented, but visitors should be fine.”

“Thank you,” Suzaku muttered in passing with a momentary, tense grin before he was trailing after C.C. already halfway out the door. 

“Does Euphie know?” she asked, eyes focused elsewhere on the line of white doors and the numbered plaques beside them. He heard her murmur  _203_ under her breath and couldn’t help admiring the deep red of the lipstick she’d chosen. In fact, didn’t C.C. look particularly well-dressed today? He rarely saw her put so much effort into appearance, so he couldn’t help wondering…

“Well?”

“Oh, uh—” Suzaku snapped to attention and rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “She’ll tell Lelouch. We might’ve been married, but they’re siblings, so.”

He shrugged somewhat helplessly, gesturing down the hall and walking past C.C. to the room they’d been looking for. He could already see Lelouch sitting upright in bed through the sliver of glass set into the door, and his lips quirked up in a half-smile despite himself. It seemed he was okay. He glanced back. C.C. didn’t look quite so relieved, expression more or less neutral as always. 

“Good.” She wedged her clutch under her left arm and grasped the handle, made to enter but not before giving Suzaku one last look.

“Don’t be obvious.” Then she was gone; Lelouch was calling her name in that simultaneously warm and cool way of his, and Suzaku couldn’t  _help_ the strange tightening in his chest. He wouldn’t say it was  _jealousy_ but maybe its close cousin.


	18. Musical Duo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asked: i am intrigued with that musical duo au you're talking about. care to share? :)_  
>  c.c. and lelouch are young and competitive musical prodigies.

“ _What!_ ”

Marianne bustled around the sunlit room, humming the tune to the latest concerto his father had whipped up and would probably be having her play. If he wasn’t so  _angry_ , maybe he would have been able to appreciate it, but as it was, he was halfway near to throwing a tantrum when a soft, familiar voice interrupted his growl.

“Big brother.” 

Lelouch stopped dead in his tracks, something like surprise on his face, and watched Sayoko push Nunnally further into the room with her mousy brown hair in two big braids framing the side of her face. He glared once more at his mother who hadn’t seemed to notice. Had they told her yet? Dropping their  _own daughter_? They probably hadn’t. He had to protect Nunnally’s feelings; he had to make them reconsider.

“Nunnally! Y-You shouldn’t be here. Don’t you have lessons now?”

Lelouch motioned for the maid to retreat, but Nunnally was pushing herself forward, and her smile was growing. “It’s okay, big brother. I know. I told them it was okay.”

Lelouch stopped, wide-eyed. “ _Y-You?_ ”

That was a lie. Nunnally would never stop playing with him. Charles and Marianne had probably made her say it. They didn’t care about their children. All they cared about was prestige.

“No.” His small hands had formed fists that shook. “I won’t play with anyone else.” He turned to repeat it louder for their mother. “I won’t play with anyone—”

“Lelouch.” Marianne’s soft humming broke, and a cold, hard voice that cut through the quiet afternoon air like steel replaced it. Lelouch nearly flinched, but he had more pride than that. “You’re brilliant but lazy, and Nunnally has been holding you back for ages. So, we’ve found someone who’s more of your caliber to play accompaniment. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

This time it was  _shock_ and anger that made him shake.

“Don’t you  _dare_ say that in front of her! And it’s not true! Nunnally!” When he turned, though, it was acceptance rather than sadness (or maybe a bit of both) that he saw on her face.

“Big brother—“ 

“Oh.”

That  _oh_ made chills run down his spine. She was prettier than he thought she’d be, but looks couldn’t replace a  _terrible_ attitude.

“I could say the same.” She stared him straight in the eye, as if she’d read his mind, and this time Lelouch did flinch. She flipped hair over her shoulder and walked to the piano bench as if his house were hers.

“They lied,” she continued, amber eyes focused on the velvety piano cushion as she unceremoniously set her probably  _dusty_ violin case atop it. “They said they were going to find me someone good.”

Marianne’s light voice filled the room, at odds with the previous harshness, and she was already moving to meet the other. “Compared to you, our Lelouch does pale a little.”

 _What?!_ A flair of indignation almost had him forgetting what they were talking about. “She—!”

“Consider this a personal favor to me.” Marianne stopped at the bench, just two steps away, and the girl didn’t even deign to look at her. Her response was just a noncommittal shrug of the shoulders and a low hum. The  _disrespect_ and audacity—who did she think she was?

“Miss C.C.!” Nunnally had disappeared when he turned to look, now stationed at C.C.’s other side with a bright smile on her face. She reached for her hands and managed to take one, forcing C.C. to look at her though her expression was blank. “Thank you for agreeing to play with my brother! He was never able to get very far with me, but I know with someone like you, people will finally be able to recognize how wonderful his piano is.”

“Nunnally…” Lelouch felt his heart break a little. He was taking tottering steps forward and about to insist otherwise when he noticed  _C.C._  wasn’t saying anything. His expression turned unkind once more, hard violet eyes staring the girl down. Nunnally’s kindness was wasted on a witch like her. If she was mean to his sister, there was no way he’d play with her.

To his surprise, however, she said, “You’re welcome.”

“Well, we won’t delay you any longer.” Marianne was taking Nunnally’s handlebars, and Nunnally was waving goodbye with a whispered “do your best!” before Lelouch could protest. The doors swung shut, and suddenly he was alone with  _that girl_.

“Well?” She raised an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over her small chest and gaze burning. “Are you going to keep wasting my time or what?” 

They’d hardly gotten into  _Nocturne_ ’s first few notes when the piece came to an abrupt stop and Lelouch’s, “Mother! She called my playing  _flat_!” erupted into the hallway.


	19. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mafia AU.

It was just like Lelouch to take a call in the middle of an  _intimate_ discussion. C.C. had shrugged it off but raised an eyebrow in his direction when he returned. That was more than enough to elicit a complicit grunt and the start of an explanation, the characteristic wetting of his lips and drumming of his fingers along the banister that said he didn’t want to say anything, but he knew she would get it out of him regardless.

“The Malcals,” he said simply, stopping beside her as she inched just a little farther away. 

“You’re encroaching on the Malcals’ territory now?” There was something like disbelief in the way she said it. “And what about their mafia princess? Does she have nothing to say on the matter?” C.C. returned, the slightest uptick in her voice betraying her interest.

Lelouch scoffed, laced his fingers together, and leaned an elbow against the railing. “She doesn’t seem much like the princess-type.”

A low murmur, a laugh? “You’d be surprised.”

“Excuse me?”

“You shouldn’t underestimate Leila. If she’s your opponent, get rid of her early. Assassination?” Cocked head, full lips—Lelouch found it difficult to concentrate on the matter at hand, but he did his best. Distracted, he completely missed the predictable way she evaded the question despite how much it used to annoy him.

“It’s impossible to slip by that bodyguard of hers,” he managed when he finally tore his eyes away from his ex-adviser’s deceptively delicate features. “It’d be easier to target Smilas.” Lelouch laughed, rueful. “But hardly.”

An image of the girl’s stubborn protector flashed across her mind, the boy’s similarity to another she knew with their suicidal determination and dead eyes making her reconsider.

“This isn’t your problem anymore,” he cut in, voice hard. The pointed  _anymore_ nearly had C.C. cringing, but she looked on seemingly unfazed. That’s right; she almost forgot.

“We’ve already seized Ioan’s property. This—” Lelouch made a small gesture with his hand, always so fond of the wrist flicks and dramatic sweeps. “— _hiccup_ is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh?” C.C. hummed, the doubtful nuance not going unnoticed. Her counterpart grimaced, lines of displeasure momentarily distorting his pretty face.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I wonder how you’ll have time for a wedding in the midst of all this.”

If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was taken aback. “That—!”

“Mr. Kingsley!”

One of the tall, gangly figures who patrolled the palace so often slid to a stop and bent at an angle, and C.C. pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders as if neither of them were there.

“Sir Schneizel would like to see you.” 

Lelouch’s frown deepened, and he was running fingers through the fringes of his hair. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir!” 

The sound of rapidly retreating footsteps didn’t stir C.C. from her spot. She continued staring across the courtyard with its thin layer of fresh snow like a frosty breath on glass pane. 

“…We’ll talk about this later.” He shuffled to leave, her second dubious  _hmm_ pausing himjust a moment before he was passing through the rest of the hall and disappearing out the door at the end.

 _We’ll talk about this later_. It was nostalgic. She reached out and caught a snowflake in the palm of her hand. This time last year, he was confessing, and now… well. Nothing lasted forever; C.C. knew that best of anyone. 

(Though, occasionally, she hoped.)


	20. Courtesans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> snippets from a brothel AU with courtesan c.c. and royalty lelouch.

Lelouch balked the moment he figured out where they were going. It was a famous route, or infamous rather, and he sneered at the thought that  _this_ was going to be their welcoming reception. 

* * *

The brothel was abuzz with the news before the men even walked in the door.  _Lelouch vi Britannia_  and  _Suzaku Kururugi_. 

* * *

“Are you alright?” Lelouch held his hand out to the girl who looked no older than himself. The brothel mistress was squawking in the background, and the girl was replete with apologies, but he paid no mind and offered his arm for support. 

“Is your ankle sprained?” he asked, and Shirley felt her cheeks flame with the first inklings of infatuation.

* * *

“ _Smitten_ ,” Kallen scoffed, arms crossed over her buxom chest. “Men like  _them_ don’t give a shit about women like  _us_.”

* * *

It was C.C.’s fault for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn’t even working that night. She was one of the few girls who sold well enough to have time off, but instead she’d put herself right in Lelouch vi Britannia’s line of sight, unwittingly or otherwise.

* * *

She began undressing the moment he entered the room. She wouldn’t have pegged him for a virgin if she didn’t see his reaction.

It was more awkward pulling the sleeves back up her shoulders than down. She was used to pulling them down. That was all anyone was ever interested in.

* * *

“She’s already had her heart broken once.” Kallen’s barking laughter startled him. “Good luck convincing her to do it again.”

* * *

“You’re going to lose all your money in this hen house. I can’t imagine your father approves.”

* * *

“Is it true?”

Shirley looked near tears, and C.C. couldn’t lie to her when she looked like that. 

“He fell in love with me first.”

* * *

“How are we going to come up with the money,” Lelouch breathed, worn down, and C.C.’s heart almost ached for him. 

She picked a spot next to him on the bed and held his hand in hers. “We’ll think of something,” she stated, matter-of-fact, even though the thought of Lelouch failing terrified her. 

* * *

Suzaku and Euphemia seemed happy. It was the kind of happy that only a legitimate marriage could offer, she mused, as she glanced at the crude silver on her left finger, the most he could afford anymore.

* * *

“C.C.!” Kallen caught C.C.’s arm and didn’t bother asking where she was going at this time of night. With the bundle in her arms, it was clear enough.

“Don’t do this again.”

“It’s different this time.” C.C. could hardly believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

* * *

“You’re late.” The apprehension in her eyes belied the passive nature of the statement. 

Lelouch draped a cloak around her shoulders, and his smile was weary but genuine. “Nunnally wishes us the best.”

“Ah, the little sister’s approval. I suppose it’s really official now, isn’t it?”

* * *

They could have let them get a little farther.

“My life for his,” C.C. panted and tried not to see the look on Lelouch’s face.

“It’s more than a fair trade, isn’t it?”

* * *

She exited the man’s tent and redressed alone. She supposed it wasn’t meant to be.

* * *

The brothel felt different, or maybe it was just her. 

“Are you alright?” Kallen shouldered up to her, concern etched in every pretty line of her face.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

* * *

C.C. watched the months pass and felt hollow. 

“Gino wants to buy me out.”

“To be his whore?”

“To be his wife.”

C.C. could have warned her against it—that Gino’s type were always philanderers, that men weren’t to be trusted, that she was a perfect example of what happened when you did—but Kallen already knew all that, and sometimes it was tiring being pessimistic. 

“Good luck.”

* * *

She stopped seeing their faces at some point. Her mistake. Not until she was straddling his waist and he’d pulled his hood to the side that she noticed something was— _off_.

“I told you before, didn’t I?”

There was no mistaking that voice, though, and her lips were curling in a smile before she could stop herself. Stupid girl. Why didn’t she ever learn?

“If you’re a witch, then I’ll become a warlock.”

“…You’re late.”


	21. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> college AU with the unholy trinity.

Suzaku yawned over the stove. “Hey, C.C., catch.”

“Nice.”

C.C. came into the kitchen just in time, dressed in a skirt without stockings and shoes without socks. The small plastic bag crinkled in her palm and sagged, but her eyes sparkled at the contents all the same. They were from the weekend when Suzaku’s Sunday 3 AM scramble to finish an essay translated into 4 AM cooking upon C.C. joining him and a subsequent 5 AM coffee crash. C.C.’s voracious appetite and occasional insomnia made her quite the demanding housemate. Monday was a blur; he didn’t even remember there’d been leftovers (which was rare) until he popped open the fridge this morning.

“Don’t eat them—ah.” Too late. The green-haired girl had already ripped the bag open with abandon, and there was sauce sticking to her nails by the time Suzaku glanced over his shoulder.

"Why not,” she questioned, stuffing one pizza roll into her mouth and then another.

“Because I already made breakfast,” Suzaku replied, just a little exasperated as he pointed to the stack of cooling pancakes by the window. “Those were meant for later.”

“Hmm?” C.C. ignored him and instead stood from her seat with a curious sort of look as she laced her fingers behind her back and sauntered to his side. “What happened to the rice and fish and pickles?”

Before Suzaku could answer, a knowing look had already replaced her previous one, and before he could deny the insinuations her eyes had already made, she’d turned away. “I see.”

“It was because I thought a change of pace would be nice!” Suzaku blustered, the words running into each other in his haste to explain and ultimately leaving him tongue-tied.

She sat back down and cupped her chin in her hand, and at that moment, he fully sympathized with his best friend’s often  _dour_ mood in her company.

“Now, if only an offhand comment from  _me_  could elicit the same response. But then again, boy’s love is so endearing.”

Suzaku groaned inwardly and set the dirty pan in the sink. C.C. was incorrigible, and her tastes were questionable at best. She didn’t bother cleaning her share of the apartment or conserving electricity or anything else for that matter. Her showers lasted upwards to 30 minutes, and her odd cravings never failed to bring the pizza man to their door at least twice a week. Sometimes, he questioned his own sanity for putting up with her, but while he was internally debating, she’d forgotten all about him and settled back, eyes half closed, as pizza roll after pizza roll disappeared into her mouth.

He pulled the coffee pot from its resting place and brought it to the table. It wasn’t long after he’d filled three cups that a loud crash,  _bang_ , and hurrying footsteps on stairs drew both their attentions. When he finally reached the landing with a familiar frown and a stifled yawn, Lelouch looked thoroughly  _pissed_ , and Suzaku didn’t really need to guess the source of his irritation.

"C.C.,” he hissed, hair disheveled, tie loose, eyes still weary with sleep, “You turned off my alarm again, didn’t you!”

The same Chesire grin curled around her pale pink lips, and she shrugged. “You needed it.”

Suzaku thought he saw a wink from his side view, heard a flustered choking from Lelouch, but he kept his peace and buried his face in the morning’s paper. Best not interfere in a lovers’ spat, he’d learned (the hard way).

“Besides,” C.C. continued in that same carefree tone. “It was only statistics, right?”

“That’s not—I said I’d tutor Shirley after class.”

The indignation had lessened a little; the harsh tone softened. C.C. knew better than anyone that Lelouch couldn’t stay mad at her, and she capitalized on that more often than not like now when she was sliding into his lap as easily as if he wasn’t there. The moment Lelouch sat down, he’d reached for the international section, but now his fingers were inadvertently tangled in her hair.  

"Hey—! What—!”

Lelouch fidgeted a bit then froze, eyes wide when she leaned in a little and… adjusted his tie. Her fingers nimbly perfected the knot then tightened. She patted his chest with the usual smirk and pulled away. “Have to look presentable for your study date, Lelouch.”

"It’s not a date,” he snapped immediately, looking properly flushed and agitated, enough to make Suzaku chuckle behind his sports section before being shut down with an irate glare.

Lelouch had woken up to a series of texts that began with “Um, Lulu, I don’t see you in class?” and a bit of guilt. He assumed C.C. had known as much; she always had an unexplained knack for ruining his plans with others.

“Oh.” C.C. shrugged. “Since it’s Shirley, she’ll forgive you.”

Without warning, she raised her feet and propped them in Suzaku’s lap. The heel of her loafers dug into the boy’s thigh, and he winced with a sharp yelp. “Ow, C.C.!”

She laughed; it was a small, short one that reached all the way to her eyes like few of her laughs did before she ducked her head against her mug and whispered, “Play along, boy.”  

 _Play along_ , she said. Suzaku saw what might have been a flare of jealousy in Lelouch’s violet eyes and gulped. He hated getting involved, but then again. He awkwardly patted her legs and let his hand rest atop her knee.

He could see Lelouch’s mind working, playing out different scenes and motives. His face reflected his internal struggle before finally settling on feigned indifference as he snatched the other half of the morning journal from across the table and hid behind it.

C.C. mouthed, “ _He’s in a mood,_ “ and Suzaku had to agree even if it  _was_ because of her.

"Ah.” Suzaku pushed the plate of hot cakes he’d brought to the table towards his friend. “Help yourself, Lelouch. I’m no cook, but.”

He gave the other a smile, and C.C. rolled her eyes. What a pliable boy. She dug her heel into the fabric of his pants further and elicited another yelp. “ _Stop flirting_ ,” she mouthed, and his eye twitched. Even Suzaku Kururugi had his limits.

“Oh.” Lelouch looked over his page cautiously and chuckled, strained as it was. “That’s a switch. I thought you didn’t like American foods, Suzaku.”

“I thought a change—”

"A boy can only be so dense, Lelouch,” C.C. quipped before leaning off her chair and swinging her legs back to the floor. There was a visible sigh of relief on Suzaku’s part (and maybe on Lelouch’s too, if anyone listened carefully.)

She balled the plastic into a tight wad and aimed it at the trash can.

“Meaning?” Lelouch asked, thin eyebrow raised in a challenging arc.

“Meaning,” she started before a loud  _bzzzzzzt_ _! bzzzzzzzt!_  interrupted. She nudged the vibrating phone from the front of her jacket, and the Cheese-kun bell tinkled against her wrist when she answered. Her voice was clipped but amused and goading which meant it could only be—

“Kallen,” she sighed and moved around the table to fetch her bag off the floor. (More Cheese-kun, unfortunately, though this one was new, and Suzaku tilted his head questioningly at Lelouch. Only Lelouch continued feeding her obsession, given the girl had no real money herself, but Lelouch simply shrugged the issue away.) “Yes, I’m aware. Though you’re quite the sloppy drunk.”

She walked around Lelouch’s chair, who pretended not to notice, and smirked very lightly as she leaned over him, one arm propped against his back as the other shouldered her phone. “Fine. Pick me up then.”

She flicked the back of his head, and he choked on coffee.

“ _What_.”

C.C. pulled the mouthpiece away and looked amused. Lelouch’s reactions always amused her. “Boya, don’t wait up. I’ll be out tonight.”

Lelouch groused, muttered something like “what you do doesn’t concern me _,_ ” and held the paper back in front of his face, but then something occurred to him, and the pages crinkled in half. He mouthed, “By the way—“

Suzaku didn’t catch the rest. Neither had C.C. it seemed.

“Pardon?” she asked though she could’ve been addressing either him or Kallen by the way she said it. There was a loud burst of noise on the other end of the line, and Suzaku cringed. It seemed Kallen’s temper had only gotten worse since she and C.C. started regularly terrorizing the streets.

“Just Kallen?”

“‘Just Kallen?’” C.C. repeated, and Lelouch cursed himself. He knew she was going to tease him, but he’d asked anyway.

“No, not just Kallen. Kallen and a rabble of boys. You know how popular she is with the boys, as much as you are with the girls.” There was a pause. “Why, jealous?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed, trying to seem unaffected despite the crease in his brow.

“Good.” She smiled, faintly smug. “I have to go then; I’ll be late.”

Before Suzaku even knew what was happening, C.C.’s lips were on his, and the color was immediately rushing to his face. It was a very chaste kiss, just enough to draw Lelouch’s attention but not enough for tongue. C.C.’s little teasing never went beyond that, but Lelouch jolted at the sight anyway.

“Bye.” She gave them a nonchalant wave and disappeared out the kitchen entryway just as the sound of a car pulling up filled the room. The front door slammed shut, and then it was just them and the awkward silence. 

“Lelouch—” 

Lelouch stopped him with a raised hand. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

A pause, the clinking of silverware as Suzaku finally picked up his fork. A breath—”You know, you should just tell her you like her.”

“Shut up.”


	22. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the anime movie _the girl who leapt through time_ (2006).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to [amethystcrocodilejazzhands](http://amethystcrocodilejazzhands.tumblr.com/) for the idea!

Lelouch jerked back, heaving breaths, Suzaku and Euphemia’s blood-splattered bodies fresh in his mind even as his left forearm burned, and he  _knew_ it wasn’t him this time. It couldn’t be. It was like someone had pressed pause on the world, and in the grayed out scenery, he looked for the one other person like him. He’d long suspected their identity, but it wasn’t until their eyes met that realization really hit, and he found himself taking a step back, then two, in disbelief.

“I thought it was you.” She beat him to it, long green hair swaying to some invisible wind, and it took him another second to understand what’d happened, why her clothes were bloody, why her bangs were parted to the side and the sleeves of her (his) jacket were rolled up for once.

She was walking off before he could comment on the blinking double zero’s like out-of-place tattoos against her pale skin, the angry mark on her forehead. “C.C.!”

He ran to catch up with her despite his lackluster stamina, irrational fear that she’d disappear otherwise making him suddenly anxious. C.C. had always been an enigma, the only puzzle he couldn’t solve, and now it seemed like she was slipping away, bit by bit, as though—

“Those numbers. They’re—”

“That’s right.” 

Lelouch grimaced at the confirmation. 49 out of 50 time leaps hadn’t given Nunnally the world she wanted. The most he’d managed to do was kill his best friend and his half-sister, and at the thought, a sardonic smile curled his lips. 

“Why.” It wasn’t a question; it was a demand, and C.C. responded in kind with a halfhearted lift of her shoulders and a passing glance over them. 

“I could ask you the same. How many lives have you ruined? Why?” 

A scowl crossed his face. He’d done his best to save Shirley’s father. He’d used two time leaps for it. 

“Answer the question.”

She shrugged again. “They’re my friends too.”

 _That_ seemed to startle him, made him slow down enough he almost lost her in a crowd of students a few seconds later. The fact none of them were moving didn’t make finding her any easier. Her voice echoed across the plaza, and it took some effort keeping up with her. He didn’t ask where they were going; it didn’t seem to matter.

“Who are you?” Even as the words left his mouth, they felt bulky and awkward, caught between a mixture of mistrust and disbelief. Mistrust in the woman who could apparently time travel, disbelief she was the same as the C.C. he’d known for almost a year. Lazy, cunning, selfish C.C. whose appearance in his life had made it that much more difficult but not wholly unpleasant. 

He kept a respectable distance, wary. 

“I’m C.C.,” she answered simply, unhelpfully, finally glancing back and stopping where the throng was thickest. “It’s about time we part ways, Lelouch.” 

Lelouch made to object only to be interrupted once more. 

“I was stuck here.” She curled a strand of hair around her finger, looked at Lelouch but didn’t exactly  _see_ him, yellow eyes unfocused. “I couldn’t recharge. But then I met someone interesting, far more interesting than anyone in the future, and I didn’t mind so much.” 

His expression couldn’t help softening at the genuine smile that lit up her face, and his gut twisted at how many futures he’d undone where she’d already smiled like that countless times. Here and now, however, it was her first.

“You don’t need to time leap to change things. You’d meant to do it regardless, right?” She quirked an eyebrow, and the familiar challenge almost made him laugh. 

“That’s right,” he answered, quiet at the slow realization of where this conversation was going. 

“You took the rest.” She threw the gun to the side, and it landed in the gutter. “And to save Suzaku and Euphemia, I used my last one.” 

“As it is, the future’s not much worth going back to anyway,” she laughed, pivoting. “I can’t stay here anymore either, though, so this is farewell.” 

For some reason, his heart jumped into his throat, and he was taking a few quick steps forward. He refrained from reaching out to her yet, hands curled into loose fists at his side. “Don’t go.” 

That was all he managed to push out between his teeth, sad and pathetic-sounding. 

“That’s not up to me.” She dodged behind a tree and reappeared on the other side, traipsing off the pavement and across the street before he could think twice. She was still wearing his clothes, he remembered. She couldn’t leave without returning them first, right?

“C.C.—”

“They call you the man of miracles.” She faced him one last time, yellow eyes somehow melancholic and hopeful all at once. “So don’t disappoint, hm?”

Now he reached out for her, but it was too late. Just half a second. Just half a second, and the world started moving again. In just half a second, he’d lost another person he loved except this time there were no do-overs. This time, it was forever.


	23. Goodbye I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of goodbye. lelouch doesn't remember c.c.; cue messy unholy trinity relationships.

C.C. moved around the room quickly, yanking blouses off hangers and jackets off the backs of chairs before Suzaku even had the chance to intervene. Some kind of fervor drove her, either to be away from him or from Lelouch he didn’t know.

“So, you’re leaving? Just like that? He  _needs_ you.” Suzaku stressed the word, eyebrows knitted together in a concerned frown. 

“He doesn’t need me,” C.C. returned simply and threw the clothes in her arms into the carpet bag beside the door. It was halfway full now; she was halfway gone, and Suzaku wet his lips nervously as his hands balled into loose, halfhearted fists. 

“I—”  _I need you_. No, why would he? “I promised him that I—”

“Is that what you tell yourself to feel better?” Eyes glinting malevolently, lips curled in a derisive sneer, she’d guessed his quiet betrayal; she  _knew_ , but she couldn’t have. Lelouch calling her a witch had always been a joke, right?

She stopped just long enough to tuck a clump of hair behind her ear, bent over the clothes scattered every which way on the bare mattress. The room was empty save for the things she could carry on her back, and if Suzaku didn’t do something soon, those would be gone too.  

But he didn’t know what to say anymore. He wasn’t Lelouch.

“And it’s better this way. All I ever did was bring him misfortune.”

Suzaku balked at the rare concern. There was genuine remorse somewhere in those words. 

“That’s not true.” He said it as if with great effort, hesitant, and immediately regretted that at the sour glare she sent his way. C.C. hurt?

“His father disowned him, took him out of the will, forbade him from seeing his sisters. Should I go on?” 

“He never blamed you for any of that. He always said it was his choice.” 

“Well, now this is his choice too. A better one.” 

“C.C., you can’t say that. He doesn’t  _remember_ you.” He trailed after her into the kitchen; she picked the Pizza Hut rewards card off the fridge and walked back out. 

“You’re very persistent, aren’t you?”

“I certainly hope so.” He tried to smile. “It’s one of my only good traits.” 

C.C. laughed this time, a soft murmur, as she finally paused in packing to level him an amused stare. “You’re selling yourself short.” 

For a moment, he almost thought she was complimenting him. 

“Humility’s only so attractive before it starts sounding forced.” She grabbed the leather handles and pulled open the door. “Goodbye, Suzaku.”

Her fingers caught the frame on the way out, but she didn’t look back. Maybe for Lelouch but not for him.

“And if he ever remembers, tell him I said that too.”


	24. Goodbye II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of goodbye.

“What did she—” Lelouch cleared his throat, fingers anxiously laced together and head dipped low. He looked tired. Suzaku sympathized, but he couldn’t help feeling a little—

Jealous?

“What exactly did she say?” He pushed his elbows further into his knees and pressed his hands to his mouth in contemplation. Furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips—Suzaku knew that look well, and he also knew what panic must have been bubbling underneath. He shifted his weight and shrugged, helpless, voice hardly louder than the ticking clock or the birds outside when he wet his lips and answered.

“She… She said it was better this way.”

“Did you look for her?” He felt himself wither under Lelouch’s gaze— _his accusation_ —as simple of a question as it’d been, as innocently-worded. Suzaku shook his head and finally dropped down on the opposite couch. 

“I tried.” Hours of scouring summed up in two words. “But she’s too good at covering her tracks.”

“Sorry,” he added lamely like there was anything more he could’ve done. There was, though. He could’ve stopped her. His jaw locked at the thought.

Maybe a part of him hadn’t wanted to.

“It’s not your fault.” Being comforted by Lelouch felt wrong. “That’s just how she is.” 

He shrugged, and in the silence, Suzaku wondered what he was thinking, how it felt to recover his memories only to have lost the actual person.

“I’ll find her.” His voice cut through sharp and bitter. 

“Lelouch, you—”  _Shouldn’t_ , but for some reason he choked on the word coming out and cleared his throat instead. “What—What are you going to do about Shirley?”

“What can I do?” A smile, the first one Suzaku had seen since he’d come out of the hospital, but it was wry at best and downright miserable at worst. A chuckle. “Now I understand why you tried so hard to stop me from proposing. I thought that was unlike you.” 

“Lelouch, Shirley loves you wholeheartedly and you—you can’t lead her on like this.”  _Hypocrite_. His eyes fell to the gold band on his left finger,  _I’ll always love you_  etched on the inside and chafing against his skin.

“I’m not. I’ll marry her. I said I would, but—” 

“Yeah.” Suzaku understood it well enough and suddenly felt sick.

“I should go. It’s late. Or early, rather.” He laughed weakly and reached out to give Lelouch’s shoulder a pat though he hadn’t seemed to notice. “Get some rest, alright?”

It wasn’t until he reached the door that the other came back to life. “Did she say anything else?”

Suzaku paused. “She said… she said to tell you goodbye.”


	25. Goodbye III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 3 of goodbye.

“C.C.!”

In the time it took for Suzaku to turn around, she was gone. But it had to be her. Those yellow irises haunted his dreams at night. He pushed through the crowd, nighttime Tokyo at its busiest, and his eyes flicked from face to face to face, looking for that hint of recognition again, that fleeting ache in his chest. 

“C.C.!” There was a panicky undertone to the way he called her name, something frantic, like he was going crazy, and maybe he was. Which was why he had to find her; it was as much for himself as Lelouch. 

His head snapped back and forth, desperation and frenzy gnawing at him as the seconds ticked by, as he slipped between couples and tripped over disgruntled bystanders with hardly a sorry. There weren’t many places to hide in the open, but how many minutes had passed now? Two, three? How many alleyways could she have slipped into, how many stores and coffee shops just to avoid him? “Damn it!”

His fingers found the shoulder of the next person who walked by a little more forcefully than necessary. “Excuse me!” 

As long as he had her attention, he couldn’t care less about the strange looks he was getting. “Uh, did you happen to see this woman walk by? She was just here. Black hair in a bun—” She was shaking her head eager to get away, already walking off, and he had no other choice but to latch onto the next one. 

“Excuse me! Sorry, I’m looking for someone. Black hair. Bangs. Dark blue suit—no? Alright, uh, thank you. Thanks, anyway.” 

“—really distinctive yellow eyes. Oh, no, it’s alright. Thank you.” 

“She was just here. I-I see. Thank you; sorry for interrupting.”

It was on the fifth or sixth person when he had lost hope and started doubting himself that a nearby voice made chills run down his spine. 

“This is pathetic.” 

He froze, his latest victim slipping away to rejoin the masses. 

“I can’t watch this anymore.” 

Suzaku gulped, slow to turn around and find her on the curb as though she’d been there the entire time. She was the same. She might have changed her hair and her clothes, but she was the same. 

He crossed the street somehow, hardly even noticed the people between them, and his arms had closed around her in a tight hug before he could stop himself. She stiffened immediately, arms locked at her side, and it was just him making a fool of himself attracting everyone’s attention. “You’re such a bitch.” 

By the time his head caught up with his mouth it was already too late to take it back.

“Did he say that?” 

“No,” Suzaku relaxed at her reply and laughed. “That was all me.” He pulled back and met her gaze, ignoring the burning sensation in his own. “Let’s talk.” 

* * *

He got straight to the point. “You have to go see Lelouch.” 

C.C. swirled the straw in her milk tea as casually though they were discussing the weather while Suzaku had all but forgotten about his as soon as they sat down. He leaned across the table, but she hardly seemed to notice. Nothing had changed after all; he hadn’t expected it to. Another her might have noticed the wryness in his smile when he repeated, “You have to see him, C.C.” 

There were a thousand other questions he wanted to ask, where have you been and why are you back at the forefront, but he forced himself to be patient. They were the only ones in the shop at this hour, just a few minutes before closing, and that made the silence before she answered all the heavier. 

“So he remembered.” 

“Of course he did.” His smile turned weary, and his hands closed around his cup though he made no move to drink. “He misses you.”

She scoffed. “How would you know?” 

“Because he’s back to how he was before he met you.” He paused. “And you know how he was before that. You miss him too, don’t you?”

The silence was as much of an answer as anything though she shot him a glare for his chuckle, the first sip of his drink he’d taken since sitting down. “I can tell. You’re more quiet than usual.” 

“It’s been years,” she pointed out. “Maybe the usual’s changed.”

“Fake tears hurt others; fake smiles only hurt yourself. Someone told me that once. I think it’s applicable here.” He ignored the look she gave him for using her own words against her, or maybe it was just surprise that he’d remembered them at all. This time the silence dragged, broken only by the occasional tinkling of the bell over the door as a few straggling customers filed in and out. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally returned, voice low and eyes focused somewhere behind Suzaku’s head. “He married her, didn’t he, and Charles has taken him back into the family by now, I’m sure.”

She laughed over the quiet din of the television in the corner. “Really, that accident was the best—” 

“He didn’t.” Suzaku had his eyes on his hands and his heart in his throat, but he could still see the vaguely startled look on her face. “Couldn’t, actually. He broke it off a week before the wedding. It’s been about a month now, and he’s miserable for hurting Shirley. Even more so because he thinks he’ll never see you again.” 

Suzaku looked up, but C.C.’s head had fallen forward, bangs shadowing whatever look in her eyes. He took a breath and tried again. “You have to see him. There’s no point in avoiding him anymore, is there?”

More silence. 

“That’s why you’re back, right?”

Nothing. There was that feeling of panic again. 

“C.C.—”

“Alright.” One hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He waited, expecting something more, but even when there was nothing else, he couldn’t help the puff of relieved laughter, the way his shoulders slumped down in his seat. 

“Really?” 

“Hmph. As persistent as ever, I see.” He thought he saw the rare flicker of a smile on her face, and suddenly he was smiling too. 

“Yes,” she repeated, and the word came out pointed and sharp like it was meant to hurt. “Have you ever known me to be one for joking around?”

“Good.”

She nodded her head towards his hand, eager to change the topic it seemed, and before he even realized what she was asking, his mouth was falling open to answer. It was a common question, after all. He’d already been asked countless times. 

“Boy. We’re naming him after my father.” 

“Genbu, hm? A heavy name for an infant, don’t you think?” 

“I’m sure he’ll grow into it.” 

It was a different sort of silence then, confused almost, as Suzaku watched her hmm again and return to her drink, ice half-melted. The guilt was slow to follow like he still hadn’t processed her question or the reminder that he had a family, a wife and unborn child, weighing on his mind like his conscience always had.

“Suzaku, I—”

“We’re moving, by the way.” He wondered if his smile looked particularly forced or the way he met her eyes. “Back to the homeland.” 

There was a belated  _oh_ that he ignored, buoyed by something he couldn’t quite explain. He was suddenly more animated, ecstatic almost, as he explained their plans, Euphy’s new duties and how they’d been gradually packing for months. How she’d insisted on making the trip, how they’d postponed leaving until after the wedding. C.C. listened patiently, humoring him maybe, until he had nothing left to say except that their flight was in two days, and if he didn’t see her again, then—

He stopped short, oddly winded, like the words had abruptly caught in his throat.

“I’m sure Lelouch will insist on us visiting as soon as you get settled.”

Suzaku laughed, a muted and solitary  _ha_ before he was getting out of his seat, maybe a bit too quickly, and distractedly checking his phone. “Right. It’s late. Euphy’s probably worried, so.” 

“Of course.” 

He turned towards the door. “C.C.”

She glanced up, something undefinable in her expression.

“I’m sure you two will be fine.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before stepping out, and he didn’t look back either. Otherwise he was sure he’d never be able to give this up. 


	26. Hunger Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on _the hunger games_. lelouch and c.c. are tributes.

C.C.’s heart hammered in her chest, a steady drumbeat to the whistling wind and cracking ice. She hated snow. It made blood so much easier to track.

“Lelouch,” she hissed and pushed him down behind the nearest drift, but the flow refused to stymie. It made a clear trail from the evergreens to their alcove.

“What,” he hissed back, eyebrows drawn into a familiar, deep furrow. The tips of his fingers had gone blue and shook as he worked to wrap the makeshift gauze, but this—this wasn’t Lelouch’s forte. He worked best behind a desk and from a distance, with his clever mind and words, and the games had never been designed for that. Winning the 74th had been a fluke. Surviving the quarter quell was far from certain, and if it weren’t for C.C., he would’ve died at the outset. It was a miracle the Order still wanted him, but she didn’t have much of a choice either way.  _Keep him alive_. To that end, Rolo had died, and she was beginning to think he wouldn’t be the only one if things didn’t change.

She wrapped her gloved hands around his stiff ones, and her hot breaths made him wince. 

“We don’t have the equipment for amputation,” she deadpanned and brought his cold fingers up to her warm cheek. Their eyes met, and in that moment, she swore she heard the ooh’s and aah’s of the lovesick viewers in Pendragon and Diethard’s suave voice as he narrated the entire scene. 

 _The star-crossed victors of District 3_. But C.C. had already stomached enough of Pendragon’s bullshit that the idea hardly made her flinch. As dense as he was, Lelouch seemed to have registered the same thought, but disgust flickered across his face, and the only thing she could do was smother it with a kiss. 

It was quick like all their other ones, little shows for the audience, but for once when C.C. pulled back, Lelouch chased after her. His dry and cracked lips lingered on her own, and suddenly she wondered whether they were even acting anymore. No one had ever left C.C. speechless, but that was what she was when he finally leaned back, looking a little more pained and closer to death as blood continued pooling around them, bright red and sticky in the colorless snow. 

“You’re getting better at this,” she chuckled, and he chuckled hoarsely back as she rubbed ice in his gash and tore cloth from their blanket to rewrap his wound.

“If we survive,” Lelouch breathed, “we should—”

C.C. never heard the end of it. It was probably better that she hadn’t. That he had thought to include her in his future was enough. Even tracker jacker venom couldn’t make her forget that.

In between harsh consciousness and fitful sleep, her scrambled thoughts kept jerking back to— 

Rolo with his leg caught in a snare. 

Marianne’s whispered lies against her ear.

Suzaku and the careers around a camp fire. 

Lelouch’s haggard pants,

_If we survive—_

“Are you my master?" 

He wasn’t sure why the question was so shocking. His extended hand—with a slight tremor through it—was soft and warm, but she shied from it anyway, eyes big and bright with fear and confusion. She looked nothing like she used to, like  _C.C.,_ and whether it was guilt or regret that made him stutter when he finally answered, he didn’t know. There was something broken in the words, though, despite the way she lit up at them, smiling just like how he’d promised she would someday.

"Let’s go home, C.C." 


	27. Weddings I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of weddings. lelouch and c.c. attend kallen and gino's wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written as a birthday present for [@shiitsuu](http://shiitsuu.tumblr.com/)! friendos forever ( ´ ▽ ` )

“I’m home.”

C.C. announced it to an empty apartment, like she always did, flipped on the light, dropped her bag with a thud, stepped out of her heels. It was routine. Familiar. Comfortable.

She slipped into the kitchen after a brief struggle with the lock. (It kept sticking; she made a mental note to call someone next week). It didn’t take long to make dinner—leftover pizza and beer wouldn’t take anyone long—and then she was on the couch with the dishwasher whirring in the background—because she’d been too tired to do them the night before—and settling into the same leather indent set over half a decade of routine.

_Meow._

“Arthur.” C.C. paused mid-bite, vaguely amused by the mass of fur that had suddenly appeared at her love seat’s right corner. The cat rubbed against the leg twice, mewling, before jumping into her lap with a tinkle. C.C. scratched her neck where the collar was loosest, faint smile pulling at the edge of her lips.

“Now how’d you get in again, hm?”

Her eyes flicked to the crack in the balcony door, the one she left that morning before work, an open invitation. Though, it wasn’t like she cared whether the cat visited her.

“Looks like Gino left the window open again,” she added, hand passing over the cat’s soft head. It gave a great yawn and fell asleep. Then it was just C.C. and the distant chatter of TV again. She looked around the room, a mess of clothes and trash and empty pizza boxes, and thought almost about cleaning it. It was fine like this though. She didn’t mind. She was out of the house most of the day anyway.

The cell phone vibrations were a reprieve from the silence. C.C. didn’t look at the caller ID before she was passing out a nonchalant, “Yea?” to whomever was on the other line.

A man was badly singing pop songs in the background. A crackle of static, a giggle. “C.C.! Wha stha hig ida,  _huh_?”

C.C. distanced herself a moment, Kallen’s drunken slur too much for even her to understand. “Go home, Kallen.”

“I know! Why di ya no show, huh?”

“I told you. I had to work.”

“ _Work_! Come— _c'mon_. Ba-Bachelorette parties, y'only git one. Oh! ‘N, 'n dey calls a guy, 'n lemme tell ya, his  _ass_ —”

“Would you rather I went to your party or your wedding?”

Kallen scoffed loudly into the phone, interrupted by what C.C. could only assume was another swig of beer as someone shrieked in the background followed by Kallen’s half-angry, half-hammered, “B-Beh quiat; I’m talkin!”

“Is Nina having fun?”

“No, no, no. Dat was, that was…” She trailed off, another swig, another pause. “What was I sayin…? Any-Anyway, what’s I mean is y'work toooo much, 'n I bettah see ya my weddin, okay!”

There was an ear-jarring thud, Kallen forgetting to hang up the phone before it slipped out of her hand, and C.C. only listened for a second more, enough for Kallen’s “Another round’s on me!” to be met with raucous cheering, before hitting the end call button. All the noise had scared Arthur away a while ago. There was only the bits of fur clinging to her skirt that was evidence she’d been there at all.

C.C. rose to shut the door then stood there a long time looking at the dark skyline dotted with city lights. “Wedding, huh.”

She rolled the word around her mouth like a stale piece of gum. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the empty room, dark save for the glow of the television.

Was she supposed to get a date?

* * *

It was the first time she’d ever seen Gino in a suit and tie. Kallen’s dress wasn’t bad though the multi-layer taffeta was overdoing it a little, wasn’t it? She’d said as much to the bride’s face, and the stubborn girl had taken it as a compliment. Said it was rare C.C. said anything “wasn’t bad.”

C.C. held her clutch tight in one hand and her glass of champagne in the other. Her eyes flicked to the clock every few minutes. Kallen had lied about how long the rehearsal would take, and now the dinner was dragging on even longer. Not that she didn’t want to be here, but.

At some point, the girl must have left her fiancé and sneaked up behind her.

“C.C.!”

A sudden jolt to the shoulders had her almost spilling Moët all down her front.

“Have to admit, I can’t believe you’re still here.”

“Did you think I’d sneak out?” It wasn’t an inaccurate assumption. C.C. had been eyeing the exit for the last ten some minutes. Maybe that was why Kallen had left her table.

“You’re being a real downer, drinking alone at my  _rehearsal dinner_.” Kallen stressed the word, eyebrow raised in a challenging arc.

"I’m not alone. I’m waiting for Gino’s uncle to come back from the john and give me more advice on my love life.”

Kallen scoffed again, crossed her arms, shook her head. “He’s probably more interested 'bout getting between your legs.”

“You know, that  _is_ the groom’s uncle you’re insulting.”

“Gino didn’t even invite him,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. Her hand found C.C.’s wrist, and she gave a firm tug. "Oi, come on." 

"What are you doing." 

"I’m taking you back to your table; what’s it look like?”

“I already finished.”

“That’s not the point. There’s this guy—”

“No.”

“ _There’s this guy_. You know, Shirley always talks about him. He’s coming back, and I think Gino sent him an—oi, Lelouch!”

Kallen waved down the tall, lanky boy who’d entered the room, not at all like the definition of “gentle, blushing bride.” It took another minute—he seemed to be on his phone—before he was stepping over, fake and easy smile sliding over his features and immediately earning C.C.’s distaste. She didn’t say anything, though, simply waited for the situation to implode on itself like they always did whenever Kallen tried to play matchmaker. Sometimes C.C. wondered whether the girl knew her at all.

“Kallen. You’re all dressed up. What’s the occasion?”

“Like you don’t know. Hey.” Kallen jerked her chin in C.C.’s direction then her thumb in the other. "I gotta get back before Gino sets the table on fire or something. But Lelouch, this is C.C. C.C, Lelouch.”

There was something less-than-harmless in her wink as she turned to leave, but C.C. shrugged it off. As did Lelouch, it seemed.

“Well.” Best cut to the chase, she supposed. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Still single, hm.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, 'You’re still single.’”

“Your point?”

“You haven’t changed in the slightest, have you?”

“Neither have you. I’m surprised you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Isn’t it better for everyone involved if they think we’re strangers?”

“Were we ever anything else?”

Lelouch pulled a face.

* * *

C.C. dug her heel into the inside of Kallen’s thigh. Kallen didn’t say anything, only returned the gesture, and soon it became a game of who could do it harder without the other squealing. C.C. won. (Honestly, she always did.)

“Ugh!” Kallen pulled her leg back, examining it for bruises. “I’m getting married tomorrow, you know?”

They were both lounging on C.C.’s couch in little else than what they’d worn to the gym. Well, Kallen went to the gym; C.C. “ran” (read: walked) on the treadmill and watched television. She rewarded herself a few hours later with a medium pizza—”Can you even fit into the bridesmaid dress with a large?”—while Kallen had settled for ramen, the microwavable kind. 

C.C. moved back from where their legs were entangled with one another and threw her pizza box onto the ground to join the others. Kallen grimaced, ready to lecture her about it she was sure, but she interrupted first.

“So, introducing me to Lelouch. You didn’t really think I’d be interested in him, did you?” 

Kallen’s expression changed to something between amusement and resignation as she shook her head, picked up the remote, and began flipping between dating show, news channel, and comedy stand-up. “I dunno. You two are pretty similar.”

C.C. scoffed, crossed her arms. “Don’t try passing off your seconds onto me.”

“Hey!” The other straightened though she couldn’t quite hide the color in her cheeks. “I told you, it wasn’t like that. It was just—!” 

“—a crush?” 

Kallen would have thrown her plastic bowl if there wasn’t still soup in it. She let out a breath of air through her nose and settled back into the cushions, recrossing her legs and giving a chagrined shrug. “Anyway, he was already in love with someone.”

“Oh? Did he say?” The uptick in her voice betrayed her interest, the way she had completely stopped paying attention to the TV. 

“He might as well have.” Kallen shrugged a second time. “It was obvious.  _Still_ obvious.”

“I didn’t know you were so perceptive.”

“Shut up.”

“Why haven’t you told Shirley then?”

“Shirley’s been in love with him since  _grade school_! How am I supposed to tell her?” Kallen shot up, indignant at whatever she thought C.C. was accusing her of, but soon enough she was settling back once more and crossing her legs at the ankles. “Whatever. I’m getting married, so it’s not like I really care anymore. I just thought you two would get along. That’s all.” 

C.C. hmm’d skeptically, watched Kallen pick at the remains of her noodles, and was about to tease the girl some more when the redhead’s eyes widened at the corner of the channel where a bright 11:21 PM was blinking. “Shit, I have to get up at 6 tomorrow! Ugh!” 

She almost tripped over herself getting up, stepping on cardboard, leftover packets of ketchup, and empty bottles of tabasco sauce. “Milly’s coming over at 7 to start on make-up.”

She was already pulling a jacket over her yellow bandeau by the time C.C. swung her legs to the floor. She watched the other chuck her chopsticks in the kitchen trash and pick her way across the floor with an amused half-smile before straightening and stepping after her. “Are Suzaku and Euphemia coming after all?” 

“I think they said their flight gets in at 8.” Kallen shoved her feet into her running shoes, balanced one hand against the wall as her other struggled to pull on the back end. 

“And your step-mother?” 

“Let’s hope not,” she snarled, expression darkening a moment as she grabbed her purse off the hook on the wall. 

“Are you sure you didn’t come over just because Gino’s one floor up?” 

“Of course not!” More indignation and a flair of color to the girl’s cheeks that had C.C. rolling her eyes. “The groom’s not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. And don’t start—following a superstition or two can’t hurt. I’ll see you tomorrow.  _Don’t be late_.” 

The door slammed shut, and C.C. watched the spot where Kallen had been, listened to her rushed footsteps on tile and the elevator ding as it slid open and closed. After that, there was nothing except the hum of air conditioning and static. She picked the remote off the floor where Kallen had dropped it and switched off the program, the light lingering for a moment in a ghostly afterglow before disappearing altogether and leaving the room completely dark. It took a moment of standing and staring at nothing in particular before she was carefully toeing past the trash on the floor back to the couch and Cheese-kun. 

She had to get up early too. It was wise to go to sleep, but. She pulled Cheese-kun up by one of its stubby arms and hugged the soft yellow plush to her chest. Kallen was really getting married, huh, and she herself was…

She climbed onto the couch and lay there for a while. It’d only been two or three minutes before the door to the stairs in the hall, which happened to be right next to her apartment, slammed open. The violent thudding didn’t stop there, switching over to her front door next. 

C.C. would’ve been startled if she didn’t immediately know who it was. Call it intuition, years of sharing someone else’s head space. The thumping had died down to a dull and persistent  _tap, tap, bang_  by the time she made it over. C.C. threw it open with no hesitation like ripping off a band-aid. 

“Can I—Can I come in?” 

Lelouch had one arm propped against the frame, forehead pushed into his hand and eyes half-lidded, while his other arm hung loose at his side. His tie was skewed—he hadn’t changed—collar bent with what looked like lipstick marks on the inside.

She scoffed at the sight. He was pathetic, painful twinge in her chest aside. “What?” she asked, trying for smug despite the hitch in her voice. “Did you fall in love with me?”

“Shut up,” he growled, surprising her with the lack of a snarky comeback, and didn’t wait any longer to push into the apartment. He smelled like a liquor store, the pungent sting of alcohol sloughing off his clothes as he plodded in as far as the living room and immediately had to grab onto the couch for support. Lelouch had always been a quiet, solitary drunk, too proud to show any weakness to anyone, friends or otherwise. 

She paused before shutting the door then coming up behind him and nudging her way under his arm. She draped it across her shoulders and pulled him along which wasn’t difficult—he was always such a lightweight—but the proximity brought back memories she would have rather left untouched. It was a long ten seconds to the front of the couch where she unceremoniously dumped him.

“You can sleep here.” She turned to leave. “Good night.”

“Wait.” His fingers snagged in the sleeve of her shirt. “I need—a change of clothes.”

C.C. shook off his grip irritably and took a step back. “…Fine.” 

She moved out of the room quickly, mind having blanked the moment she saw his state, as much as she’d convinced herself she didn’t care anymore. She rummaged through her drawers a moment and came out with what she was looking for—that tiny black camisole he always wore to bed. She distantly wondered if he’d still fit. 

“Here.” She threw it at him back in the other room, relied on his drunkenness not to question why she still had his things, but Lelouch didn’t react at all. Merely flipped onto his other side with a groan, forearm over his eyes sliding down to the floor. 

She debated leaving him there, but something that obviously wasn’t indifference ultimately prompted her to sit beside him. Her fingers curled in the lapel of his jacket with far different intent than they used to, and she tried to shake him into a sitting position. 

“You’re such a child,” she murmured and was vaguely amused to hear him snap back, “And what if I am?”

 _I wouldn’t have fallen in love with a child_ , she thought, stopped herself, and continued pushing his arms out of the sleeves. 

“Stop— _moving_ , Lelouch.”

She shifted, pulled a leg over his lap; he knocked his head back, slipped down the leather. Her fingers loose in his shirt as she straddled his lap, his nose to her neck and against her hair. It was annoying. 

She pushed him roughly and yanked out the tie, unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way without stopping to  _think_ about how familiar it all was _._ Though she couldn’t stop her eyes from travelling down his torso and noting his unchanged skinniness. It was laughable, almost, if the situation wasn’t so unfunny. She popped his head through the hole in the shirt and left him to do the rest himself without another word. 

Her eyes were suspiciously wet by the time she closed the door to her room though she blamed the late hour for that. It wasn’t until she crawled into bed that she realized she’d left Cheese-kun with him. 

* * *

“Get up.” She threw his jacket back at him, lighter than it had been the night before, one hand around her back clutching the contents of its pockets as her other grabbed Cheese-kun that he’d been using as a pillow with a flair of indignation.

“Get up,” she repeated, and it took another four or five times to rouse him. Lelouch was a mess but still the same, still had the same bags under his eyes that were the same unperturbed violet hue as the last time she’d seen him. She was sure she looked the same too. 

He ran a hand through his hair, glanced around the room, and laughed though his voice came out as a croak. “You’re still a pig. What time is it?” 

“Eight,” C.C. returned, clipped and to the point, before she threw the crumpled napkin in his lap. “You did this on purpose.” 

Lelouch blinked, confusion on his face, as he smoothed out the white cloth and found a number scrawled over it in red lipstick. “C.C., this—”

She snatched it and flipped it over to the address on the other side. “You purposefully went to a bar within walking distance of my place. You got drunk because you’re too proud to do it sober. You put this ring—” 

She pitched the black velvet box onto his stomach, wedding ring inside knocking around audibly. “—in your pocket for me to find.” 

She paused, impassive expression fracturing just a little as she finally scoffed, “You’re too predictable.”

She left the words to hang in the air, silence dragging as she stared him down and he avoided looking at her. He swung his legs over the edge, and there was a disbelieving puff of laughter before he finally looked up. “No, you just know me too well.”

C.C. raised an eyebrow. “What are you trying to do, Lelouch?”

Lelouch shrugged, just a defeated raising and lowering of his shoulders. “Nothing.” He stood gingerly, wincing as he did so with a hand placed against his head as his other steadied himself on the cushions, and C.C. stepped back. “Do you still love me?”

C.C. hugged her arms tighter around her chest. “Still?” she laughed, something broken in the sound. “Who said I ever—” 

“Do you love me now, then,” he amended, standing before her all of a sudden. His left hand raised to tangle in the ends of her hair, and she didn’t know what kind of look he was giving her with her eyes trained below his face, but she  _knew_  at the same time.

A loud buzzing caused them to jump apart almost simultaneously, Lelouch’s hand going to flounder at the pocket of his pants while C.C. fought through the pizza boxes and fountain sodas on the floor to reach her phone on the coffee table. 

“Hello?”  
“Nunnally!”  
  
“I know; I’m up.”   
“Of course I didn’t forget! I’m just—caught in traffic right now.” 

“I don’t need a ride.”  
“Ah, let Rolo sleep. It’d be bad if he slept through the wedding.” 

“Fine. I don’t care.”  
“I’ll be there in half an hour at most.”

“You’re the one who made me stay up last night, you know.”   
“She’ll be excited to see you.” 

“Fine, fine. Bye.”  
“Don’t talk to strangers. Alright, alright, see you soon.”

C.C. made her way to the balcony window, throwing her phone back onto the table as she went. Lelouch watched her, wistful almost, before clearing his throat and tightening his grip over his own. “C.C.—”

C.C. threw the curtains aside, and soft morning light flooded the room, making Lelouch flinch and step back. 

“You’re leaving afterwards, aren’t you.” Her face was turned away, but he could see her reflection in the window. 

“No, tomorrow.” He shrugged into his jacket that still reeked of alcohol and shook his head, picking up the ring box with a wry laugh. He didn’t say anything else until he reached the door, didn’t even comment on the wrappers and clothes strewn all over the ground. 

“I have to pick up Nunnally and Rolo.” Lelouch paused, eyes turned to watch C.C.’s reflection as he threw the box onto the table next to her phone. “Keep it. It was for you anyway.”


	28. Weddings II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of weddings.

It was a beautiful ceremony. Everyone said so. C.C. thought so too, but it was by some laughable coincidence that the bouquet had hit her out of everyone else—like Shirley who’d actually  _tried_ to catch it—or maybe Kallen had done it on purpose. Either way, C.C. wasn’t very amused. She’d all but picked the flower petals clean by dinner time. 

C.C. threw the stems out in the trash when no one was looking, satin ribbon and all, and found her place at the table to Kallen’s right and Milly’s left. She couldn’t remember which glass of wine she was on by the time talk finally died down and the restaurant Gino had bought out quieted as plates of food stopped coming out and empty platters started going back in.

C.C. swirled the remains of her nth glass of Chardonnay and downed it around the same time Gino abandoned all proper pretenses by loosening his tie the rest of the way and propping his right foot up on the back of Kallen’s seat. Kallen herself had grown so red in the face with alcohol that C.C. didn’t doubt she could’ve sneaked out with the girl being none the wiser. But, she supposed that wasn’t being a good maid-of-honor.

She tipped the empty glass over and ran a finger around the rim, free arm propped against the table and hand pushed into her cheek. She didn’t think he’d come to dinner too, but the penetrating gaze coming from the other side of the table had proved her wrong.

“So, where -  _hic_ \- are ya guys going to -  _hic_ \- honeymoon ‘gain?” Rivalz swung around an empty bottle, nearly hit Rolo, then sprawled out over the tablecloth stained purple and red.

“Japan!” Gino chirped, as bright-eyed as he’d been at the start of the reception, and casually threw an arm around Kallen, their chairs pulled so close together now that they were practically sitting on top of one another.

Kallen leaned into his shoulder, looking content, moved her legs out of the voluminous skirts of her pale pink gown and propped them up on the edge of her seat with her arms against her knees. Gino paused, waited for her to interject, then continued with a roguish grin and a loud whisper that bordered on quiet shouting. “I wanna get to know her mom’s side better. Bonus, I heard they’re into bondage.” He laughed, winked. “Right, Euphemia?”

“That's—!” Euphy nearly dropped her plate out of surprise—and chagrin—expression caught between something like embarrassment and indignation when Kallen’s loud roar interrupted.

“Perv!” She angled back, jerked forward, and landed an elbow square in his stomach.

“Oof!” Gino doubled over, red in the face.

C.C. smiled, couldn’t quite bring herself to laugh along with everyone else, but sometime between Gino’s coughing and Kallen’s haranguing her line of sight traveled to the only other person who also wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t looking at her at the moment. Rather, he was watching the carrot top with her arm slipped in the crook of his elbow, Shirley leaning up to mouth something against his ear before quickly pulling away and looking genuinely  _happy_.

They were a picturesque couple and, with Nunnally on the other side, made a picturesque little family.

All of a sudden, C.C. couldn’t sit still anymore.

“Alright, alright! I was just joking, honest!” Gino raised his hands in a placating gesture and got as far into his apology as a second  _sorry_ before being interrupted again. This time, though, it wasn’t his wife. C.C. had noticed Milly’s conspicuous absence at her side and now watched as the other reached around Kallen’s chair to grope her chest.

“Madam President!”

“Mmm~! On that note, I have to make the most of this before your husband does!”

“Ah! Milly?!”

C.C. left on the second shriek, dodged onto the terrace before anyone could notice, and pulled the pins from her hair as she went. Green locks tumbled out of place in handfuls until the hairstyle was completely ruined, reduced to semi-wavy ends and wayward strands sticking out at awkward angles. One hand went into the mess to try to fix it, the other knocked into empty chairs and tables as she tottered along, feeling a little heady and a lot tired. It wasn’t just the wedding that had made her tired, though. Her thoughts returned to that morning, and she immediately shook her head to clear them away. 

The restaurant was on the top floor of a skyscraper, and it was a mammoth skyscraper. City lights twinkled as far as the eye could see; then in the very distance where land met water there was nothing, and C.C. concentrated on that, tried to mimic that nothingness in her own mind. After all, she’d given up on him years ago, hadn’t she?

Well. She supposed it was harder when she suddenly had so many instances of comparison. C.C. half-tripped, half-fell into the glass railing and used it to support herself as she glanced back into the room. She could just barely make out the happy couple if she really craned her neck and tried. It seemed no one had missed her, chatter continuing uninterrupted. Here was the companionship she had wanted for years, and somehow she was no more satisfied than before. 

 _How selfish can you be?_  She laughed, Lelouch’s voice ringing distantly in her mind, and tucked a strand of hair that’d fallen in her face behind her ear. Five minutes passed, ten. She stayed until she could feel her head starting to clear.  _Starting_. It wasn’t clear enough for her not to pick up her purse, not to take out the ring she’d tucked into the inner pocket. It sparkled in the dim light coming from the ballroom, and it really wasn’t a bad ring. It really wasn’t. On her finger, it even looked nice. 

“I take it you approve?”

C.C. withdrew her left hand reflexively and scoffed, right coming up to cradle her chin. She didn’t need to look back; smugness practically dripped from his voice. “I almost forgot your habit of eavesdropping and spying.”

Lelouch sighed, came up beside her and stopped. His fingers skimmed the banister before gingerly settling just a few centimeters from her own. “Once, and it couldn’t be helped. You were mumbling in your sleep.” 

There were a thousand and one things C.C. could have said in rebuttal, but for some reason, none of them seemed appropriate. So she didn’t say anything at all, just silently regretted putting on that ring but mostly regretted being caught.

It was a mild night, no wind, which didn’t help the sudden tension in the air as she spun the band absentmindedly with her thumb and waited for–what, she wasn’t sure. Anger, perhaps. Questions? 

Her eyes strayed, words slipping out before she could stop them. “I could really go for a pizza right now.”

Lelouch gave her a look. From the periphery, she didn’t know what kind, but she could guess. Exasperation, probably. Disappointment, maybe. 

“Hello.” 

C.C.’s head snapped up, and she finally looked at him, really looked at him with a cellphone pressed to his ear. 

“Yes, this is Lelouch. Can I get that pizza delivered now? That’s right. Top floor. The special, yeah. Thanks.”

It was hard to keep the look of incredulity off her face as she finally angled her body towards him. 

“I never took it off speed dial,” he explained, shrugging as he slipped the phone into his pocket again, and paused, hesitant almost, before wetting his lips and adding in nearly the same breath, “How much.” 

Lelouch laced his fingers together, one elbow leaned against the railing, and she watched them tighten as he forced the words out. She straightened as well, didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, and he didn’t wait for her to. “How much did he pay you.“

There was a strange pinching in her chest, a sudden shortness of breath that had her wondering when she’d become so invested in this, when she started caring about what he thought, whether he’d believed everything Charles had told him.  _She took the money and ran. That was all she wanted._ She was sure, regardless of what she’d said, that was how Charles had framed it. She always wondered at his reaction, and she shouldn’t have been surprised.

C.C. laughed quietly, the sound dry and humorless, and ran her right hand through her hair. "And what would you do about it, I wonder. Pay for me to come back, to stay?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t mind a woman using you for your money, hm?”

“If it was as simple as that, you wouldn’t have left to begin with.” Lelouch’s hand disappeared into the folds of the jacket draped over his arm. “But I was curious.” A scoff. “Just how much does that man think I’m worth?”

If what he said didn’t make C.C. balk, the cigarettes certainly did. “You smoke?” she asked, more interested in that than anything else, the implication of Lelouch’s words or the sudden heaviness of her finger, the bite of metal against her skin.

“There are only so many vices a man can turn to for stress relief.” He knocked out a thin stick from the pack, hand returning for the lighter, and in that moment C.C. stole it for her own. She shrugged in response to his questioning look, the flicker of surprise. 

“The man I knew didn’t have time for vices.” Her voice was a little thinner than usual, softer, a tremble through her fingers that made the cigarette twitch, but she steadied it long enough for Lelouch to bring a flame near. 

“I had time for you.” There was a laugh somewhere in those words. “And you’re the worst of them all.” He lingered; she refused to meet his gaze. “A real witch.”

A smile threatened to split her face despite her best efforts, and in the end, she had to turn her head aside to keep him from seeing it. She hated it, this familiarity like they’d never spent a day apart, never mind five years. She blew ringlets of smoke in the opposite direction and heard the clicking of the lighter followed by a breath, a draw. “Childish as ever,” she finally murmured, but she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “A real brat.”

“Hey!”

They both swiveled around at the same time. “Who ordered pizza?! C.C.!”

“No way, did she really?”

C.C. was already stepping away and flicking ashes onto the floor, already leaving, when Lelouch grabbed her wrist, pulled her back. His lips found her knuckles before she could think twice, her ring finger tight with something impossible.

“The offer still stands.” He held her hand and her gaze, the first so firmly that it practically shook. “Think about it.”

C.C. couldn’t stop herself. Her fingers coiled in his tie, jerked him down, paused, and when she finally kissed him, a span of two seconds later that felt like an eternity, his breath was smoky and sweet. The latter she’d always known, and the former, well. She supposed she had the rest of her life to get used to it. 


	29. Great Gatsby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on _the great gatsby_.

“What happened to you?” he stepped away, mildly bemused and head tilted, unfamiliar look in his eye that vaguely hurt. As though he didn’t know her anymore even as C.C. felt her chest clench with  _but you do_.

Instead, however, she shrugged. “I grew up,” she returned simply, leaving before he could leave her (a second time). It was better this way. Safer. Less painful. She threw a cool look over her shoulder and a benign wave. Play the part—old friends, not ex-lovers. If Mao found out, who knew what he’d do; his jealousy and suspicions were overwhelming as they were. She didn’t need to add to them. 

He remained stiff, rooted to the spot, gaze skirted to the side and evasive. His hands had curled into loose fists; his smile was strained. Fake. But fake was better than picking at old scabs. The bruises on his ego would fade eventually with time and with other women. He wasn’t lacking in either, and that was the kind of man he was, the kind who didn’t wait for others. People like them adapt. People like them  _survive_. He always forged ahead, alone or otherwise. He was strong. So was she. They didn’t  _need_  one another, and maybe that was what had always bothered her the most about them. That they were accessories in each other lives, here one day and gone the next. It didn’t matter, and she found it funny that he suddenly wanted it to. Not without some ulterior motive, she was sure. C.C. brushed aside the nagging  _what if_ ’s in the back of her mind and stepped around the car to the passenger door.  _Whatever_  ulterior motives, she was beyond his influence now, or that was what she told herself anyway as she rolled up the opaque window and shut herself away again like how she was so good at doing.

* * *

Suzaku complied. He always did, good little soldier boy that he was. The house was smaller than he thought it’d be, though, as he shielded his eyes against the blinding sun and looked across the lake to the  _mansion_ on the other side, dwarfing every other nearby building. The last of his things had finally come, but maybe it was better if he requested a change of residency instead. Everything was fine  _except_ the parties that lasted into the early hours of the morning like dull white noise he couldn’t get used to. He didn’t know  _how_ no one complained or  _how_ people could be so loud as to be heard across a  _lake_ , but. It was eating into his work for sure. He gave a yawn, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and popped open the mailbox with its little upright flag.

The envelope smelled like it’d been  _perfumed_ with gold details inked into the corners. There was no return or recipient address, just a black seal on the back that had his heart jumping into his throat. It took a good moment of convincing himself that  _it couldn’t be_ , before he was breaking it open and nudging out the sheet of paper. Suzaku turned the invitation over in the palm of his hand, eyebrow raised.

_I’d be honored if you could attend tonight. — Zero_

“Zero?” Suzaku gave a little scoff. It looked like his neighbor was a wealthy eccentric. Another one. His thoughts wandered to Lloyd for a moment and Cécile then someone else that he quickly batted aside because he couldn’t afford to think like that anymore. He shook his head free of nostalgia, swallowed the bit of bitterness, and picked up the remaining box of appliances. It weighed heavier than he expected, and it took him a moment of struggling to reach the doorstep. By the time he did, though, he didn’t want to enter anymore, premonition washing over him in waves of self-doubt. He fingered the cool metal of the key in his right palm and sighed. As long as he could meet Euphy again, that was all he cared about.

* * *

Suzaku didn’t think a house could look like an amusement park, but if the noise didn’t do it, then the hoards of people did. Every push or shove had him apologizing and tripping over his own feet. He thought he heard the crunch of glass under his heel and realized too late that it  _was_  the crunch of glass, broken champagne stems and bowls littering the front “lawn” that spanned several acres and looked like it took up more space than the over-sized mansion did. Suzaku gave a curt, apologetic nod to the waiter cleaning, or trying to clean, before being swept away by the crowd again. Across the courtyard, up the stairs, into the foyer that stretched high and long like a church ceiling.

“Suzaku!”

He pivoted at the familiar voice and broke out in a smile when arms curled around his elbow, tugging him back the way he came. Milly had that  _presence_  about her that made crowds part and steered bystanders away. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or  _bad_ , but either way, she was bulldozing her way through, diamond studs glinting in the half light and lending her an  _elegant_  air that was both highly characteristic and not. Sometimes he forgot she had blue blood in her, but dolled up or otherwise, she was still the same Milly. 

“Milly, wait, where are we going?” Suzaku laughed, trying to reclaim his arm to no avail.

“You’re missing the best of the party, Suzaku! Which is definitely  _not_  inside.”

She flashed him a warm grin and ground to a halt on the stairs, fingers lightly entwined with his own as she turned to face him.

“W-What is it?”

“Let me look at you.”

“Is there something on my face?”

Suzaku scratched at his chin, squirming just a  _little_ until the scrutiny, but soon enough another bright smile was lighting up the girl’s face as she pushed her hands on her hips and gave a reaffirming nod. “Mm. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Suzaku didn’t get to make a rebuttal before he found his hand in hers again leading him through the maze of guests and silver platters.

“How’s Lloyd?”

“Missing you,” Suzaku called, cupping a hand over his mouth to raise his voice above the crowd. It didn’t seem to work. Milly fell silent until they were back at the base of the stairs, in the shade of a tree and just a bit more removed from the festivities. He could hardly call it the sidelines, though, as people kept clipping his shoulder. He sighed, about to say something like “let’s catch up at my place,” when Milly interrupted with a fainter smile and brusque words.

“You don’t have to lie. The only thing Lloyd ever misses is work.”

Suzaku mimicked her smile and rubbed the side of his neck. “That’s not true. Lloyd’s just very, uh, dedicated. You know that.” He paused. “But anyway, I should have known you’d be here. Did you get an invite too?”

His hands patted down the side of his slacks in search of the flowery envelope only to be interrupted by Milly’s loud, uninhabited laugh. Maybe a little drunk, but it was hard to tell when  _everyone_  smelled like alcohol and smoke.

“Well, the Ashford family still has its name if nothing else. I didn’t get an invite; I just came.” She quirked an eyebrow at his flurry of movements, plucking the paper sticking out of his back pocket before he could. “I think you’re the only one who  _did_  get one.”

“I thought it was strange when no one checked it.” Suzaku moved to stand next to the other, rereading the lines over her shoulder. “I don’t even know—”

“Well! It looks like Zero has taken an interest in you.” The mischievous spark returned to her eyes. “Most of these people don’t even personally  _know_  him, you know. Myself included, but he has a flair for dramatics, so I’m sure we’d get along.” She waved a hand at the display before them, fountains and music and excess booze everywhere. Suzaku’s eyes crinkled a little at the gesture, thoughts going back to old parties and old friends, before he cleared his throat and offered another laugh.

“Be sure to introduce us,” she added, tucking the letter and envelope back into his open hand.

“If I can find him,” Suzaku returned. “Did anyone else come…?”

He didn’t have to specify  _anyone else_ ; Milly picked up on it immediately, and her expression fell slightly as she murmured, “None.” She reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair into its bun. “Sorry.”

They both fell silent for a beat, Suzaku regretting having asked before a loud, happy squeal from behind startled them out of their thoughts. A scantily-clad woman led her older counterpart into the fray by the necktie, and it wasn’t long before the two melded back into the mass. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” Suzaku pressed a hand gently to the small of Milly’s back. “You look very beautiful, Madam President. You should go enjoy yourself, and I’ll try to find this ‘Zero.’” Suzaku raised the invitation pinched between his middle and forefinger. Milly laughed at that, a small haha that was markedly different from the blithe ones she used to give, but they could both pretend at least.

“Be careful with that tongue. I’m a married woman, you know.” She squeezed his hand lightly before turning and throwing a final smile over her shoulder. “Come find me afterwards!”

“I’ll try!” She was gone the next Suzaku blinked, whisked away by the crowd. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and returned to his original objective. So, his suspicions were correct. In that case, Zero must have had something to discuss with him. He couldn’t tamp down the unease, the familiar handwriting  _bothering_  him in spite of himself and in spite of how  _impossible_  the idea was. It  _couldn’t_  be, could it? But then again, they used to call him the man of miracles, so. Suzaku let out a wry laugh, kept his expectations low, and trudged on.

* * *

“So it was you." 

The words came out hushed with a tint of disbelief and  _betrayal_. He couldn’t say he was surprised, though. This was the whole reason they’d sent him here, after all, and Zero had fallen for the bait hook, line, and sinker, or maybe that was what he’d meant to do. Suzaku could never keep up with the workings of Lelouch’s mind. Whether it was five years or forever, some things just didn’t seem to change, and Suzaku didn’t know whether the tightness in his chest meant he liked or hated the fact.

"It’s been a long time." 

His hair was trimmed to the length it used to be in school, posture stiff and expression devoid of all that pain during their last meeting. He didn’t know when his hands had curled into fists, but they were curled and shaking.

"You have some  _nerve_  coming back,  _Zero_.” He spat the pseudonym like acid, and it seemed to faze the other to some extent before he was gesturing towards the chess board, same set-up as before.

“Let’s talk.” Lelouch paused, expression fracturing in a frown. “Please, Suzaku.”

Suzaku considered his instinctive response— _I have nothing to say to you—_ before he let his tense shoulders fall, and he was pulling his stuffy jacket off in two quick jerks. “You have five minutes.”

“That’s all I need.”

The anger overpowered the tinge of pain as he sat down, staring hard enough at the board to burn a hole through the middle. Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, he was being put in checkmate.

“She’s married now. To Mao, you know,” he murmured. He didn’t know  _why_  he suddenly felt like bringing it up; it wasn’t related to anything they were talking about but. Maybe he’d just wanted to hurt him a bit. Quid pro quo. It was long overdue.

Lelouch’s interlaced fingers and brooding gaze told him all he needed to know. “I know,” he returned, voice so low and harsh it almost bordered on a growl. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh, really,” Suzaku scoffed and felt  _sad_  at the circumstances of their reunion though it was a fleeting emotion at best, quickly replaced with his anger. “Your five minutes are up, by the way.”

“So you’ll help?”

Suzaku paused at the threshold, grip tight around the handle. The noise of the ongoing party outside, inside, all around the house filtered through the cracks of the door, muted only by the grandfather clock striking midnight in the corner of the room. His voice was firm despite his wavering resolve. “I’ll do what I can.”

Lelouch let out a breath, but he didn’t wait for the thanks to finish before he was slamming the door behind him. His gut  _twisted_ , but he forced himself to keep it together. It looked like he wouldn’t be able to tell Milly about it after all.


	30. Wrong Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _shiitsuu asked: knocking on the wrong door, suzaku/cc please i love you♥_

Suzaku blinked at the woman who answered the door.  _Shell-shocked_  would have been a bit of an  _understatement_.

“Oh.” Apathetic, disinterested. Not very lady-like, Suzaku noted dimly. “You’re not the pizza boy.” 

Was this how she greeted the pizza boy? Towel and water dripping between the valley of her—

Suzaku put a stop to that thought before it could get any further though he found his eyes wandering lower regardless…

“Sorry!” he squeaked, voice higher pitched than he imagined it being in his head. His grip tightened on the plastic handles of the grocery bag, two wines and a bag of cat food for himself jostling together loudly at the start. He took a step back as if distance could save dignity—hers? his?—and took another bewildered look at the numbers on the door then the ones smudged across his hand.

“I—I must have the wrong floor.” His lips quirked up. He tried at casual smile and failed spectacularly. “S-Sorry,” he amended both for the sudden lack of grace and the obvious interruption. 

“Oh? Are you looking for Lelouch?” She pulled the second towel from her neck and rubbed it through her hair, balancing one foot on the other and pressing her thighs together. Pale, wet thighs.

“Yes,” Suzaku coughed and jerked his head  _up_. She had a different look than she had a minute ago. ( _Impish_?) “Do you know him?”

She let out a breath, melodramatic almost. “That’s one way to put it.” 

“ _Dammit_ , C.C.! Where did you hide my—Suzaku!” 

Lelouch stopped dead in the middle of the hall, past C.C.’s shoulder, where Suzaku could still make out unpacked boxes in the living room. He looked much like she did, towel at his waist and  _horrified_ expression aside.

“Why—Why didn’t you call ahead!”

“I—I got off work early! I texted!”

C.C. yawned. “Well, come in then.” He was falling into the room before he knew it, dragged off his feet by deceptively delicate-looking fingers curled in his shirt collar. “I’m sure there’s room for one more.”


	31. Confession I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of confession. c.c. and lelouch reunite and realize they still love one another in a series of confessions.

C.C. was cold to him. Utterly indifferent, and if he didn’t have such an ego, maybe he would have inquired after it.  _What happened to you?_  and  _Why?_  on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t. He stayed quiet, their threadbare politeness falling away as soon as Suzaku stepped out, and they were left alone with their thoughts and the stale, festering silence. Her face was turned, but she played with the ring on her finger, spinning the silver band, and he refused to believe it was a nervous tic. C.C. didn’t have nervous tics. She didn’t have any tells at all. She knew full well what she was doing. She was mocking him, and for what? For choosing his career instead? For prioritizing family over… a woman he hardly knew? Even three years into their relationship? His hands formed fists on the briefcase in his lap, and he cleared his throat with an agitated tug of the collar. She pretended not to notice.

“C.C., I—”

“If you want to talk business, I suggest setting an appointment with my husband.”

Her nails clicked against the door as if threatening to leave should he press the matter. Lelouch suppressed a growl in the back of his throat. Silence returned uneasily, tempered by the unlocking of car doors and Suzaku’s voice filtering through the tinted glass. He slid into the driver’s seat a moment later, slightly out of breath and windswept.

“C.C., can you drive Lelouch back? I have to meet with Euphy for a bit. Hey, Lelouch, you don’t mind, right?”

C.C. hesitated, and Lelouch thought he saw a flash of some unknown emotion, something he’d never quite seen before. The words stuck in his throat for a minute before he was coughing, “It’s fine,” into the palm of his hand.

“I suppose,” she said slowly, cool girl blasé oozing into every syllable. Suddenly, Lelouch forgot how he could have ever fallen in love with her in the first place. She hadn’t changed at all. Maybe that was the problem.

“Actually, Suzaku, I just remembered that my—” He paused, lips curling distastefully around the word and drawing Suzaku’s attention from the road to the rear view mirror. “—father sent a company car. It should still be there.”

Lelouch made a show of checking the time on his phone before inching towards the door. He refrained from gauging C.C.’s reaction. He was sure it’d leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Are you sure? C.C.” Suzaku turned to his wife, brow furrowed. “Walk Lelouch partway for me?”

Suzaku threw his head back, benevolent smile crinkling his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

Lelouch sent a lazy wave over his shoulder. “Just make sure you come see Nunnally.”

“It’s a promise.”

Lelouch relaxed at the slamming of the car door and stiffened again when the same sound repeated on the other side. C.C. emerged, green hair piled on the top of her head in a messy ponytail she must have just done. She never used to wear her hair up when  _they_ dated. The thought didn’t send the bittersweet pang through him he thought it would. Rather, there was only annoyance, and the vague, unshakable feeling of betrayal.

“You don’t need to. I know the way.” The words came out in stiff, short bursts, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed. But her back was turned and her arms crossed almost defiantly. She threw a look over her shoulder, unfazed arrogance surprising him like looking in a funhouse mirror. She was so—beautiful. Lelouch balked at the involuntary thought and covered half his face with his free hand, scowling.

That seemed to amuse her. C.C.’s lips quirked though he couldn’t tell whether she meant to smile or sneer. “Suzaku wanted me to, so I will.”

“Since when did you do what others tell you?” Lelouch shot back before he could stop himself though he was already rounding the rear of the car and stopping at her side.

“Don’t act like I never listened to you. Our partnership wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

She didn’t wait for a smart comeback before she was moving again, heels clacking against the pavement and long pale legs drawing Lelouch’s attention despite himself. He cleared his throat and followed suit, briefcase handle clenched in one hand as his other ran through his hair. He was all frazzled nerves and forced composure; he wondered if she could still see through him as easily as she used to.

“Oh?” Lelouch intoned, smirk evident in his voice. “I didn’t think double-dealing and keeping secrets counted.”

“Think what you want. I can’t stop you.”

“That’s right.” They’d reached the moving walkway by now, and Lelouch vaguely registered how alone they were before grabbing her wrist, pulling her back before she could step onto the platform. She jerked away as if his touch burned, but he’d grown persistent with absence and held on. His eyes bore holes in the back of her head til she didn’t have a choice but to turn and face him. They stared at one another, tension so palpable it could suffocate. “Why—?”

At first it was just her fingers on the nape of his neck then her heels lifting off the carpet then her lips hovering over his, then on his, and  _God_ , he’d missed the taste of her as cheesy as that sounded (pun intended). For a moment, he thought he could forgive everything, anything, if she could just—

“I love him.”

Lelouch gawked, speechless.

“I love him,” she repeated though her eyes fell to the floor at the last second, though he could feel the shiver run down her spine. She was so close her breath fogged his vision.

“Liar. He loves Euphy, and you know that.”

“That doesn’t change—”

Lelouch forgot where he was and what he was doing when he grabbed her shoulders with both hands and distantly registered the clatter of a briefcase to the floor. “I need you, C.C.”

Her gaze turned hard. “Then you wouldn’t have left me.” She shrugged him off so easily he felt his ego bruise.

“I left because—”

“I don’t need your excuses, Lelouch. I have no use for them.”

“ _Listen_ —” He reached for her once more, but this time she slipped away as easily as a ghost.

“Suzaku’s expecting—”

“I love you.”

C.C. froze, and Lelouch felt his back lock and his mouth go slack-jawed. He recovered first, but she spoke before he did, and they were exactly the words he expected.

“It’s too late.”

“I thought you should know the extent of your betrayal.” Lelouch didn’t hide the bitterness. He picked up his briefcase and didn’t notice C.C. clutching her forearm until he’d walked around her. She’d straightened before he could look twice, schooling her features with all the professional mannerism of the executive she used to be.

“I have a meeting with Charles.”

Lelouch flinched at the name.

“Goodbye, Lelouch.”

He was already halfway across the floor, the rest of the airport yawning open before him with all its noise and people. Her parting was lost to the crowd, and she was glad because she’d regretted it immediately. There was a certain wryness to her features when she finally turned to leave. She didn’t think she could say the words “I love you too” and mean them ever again, but she supposed Lelouch always had a habit of surprising her.


	32. Confession II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of confession.

C.C.’s head snapped up from the cold, bathroom tiles she was leaning against, hand falling to her purse and clutching for the source of that  _buzzing_. It surprised her–and annoyed. She’d silenced Suzaku’s texts and most of her other contacts’, so who–?

If the area code didn’t tip her off, the message did. Short and sweet:  _We need to talk_. Her lips curled up, sardonic smile reflecting in the mirror to her right.

“Excuse me.”

C.C. didn’t bother apologizing as she moved to the side and allowed the woman access to the hand dryer. She took an absentminded step, then another, teeth sinking into her lip in the same place Lelouch had–

She shook off the thought before it could finish and rapidly tapped:  _Mao?_  Manicured fingernails clicked against the plastic covering as she added:  _Is that you?_

The three dots hadn’t appeared for long before another message took its place, just as succinct with a hint of irritation:  _That’s not funny._

Funny or not, C.C. laughed, hiding the smile with the back of her hand. It was a small laugh, a quick  _ha!_ , that she regretted as soon as it happened.  _Really? I could have sworn it was him._

She didn’t wait for the implication to settle in; it was clear enough without her having to say it. She could almost picture him curled over the dining table and scowling at the glowing screen on his knee, long fingers stretched taut under chin,  _thinking_. Pros and cons, costs and revenues. Years might have separated their last meeting, but Lelouch hadn’t changed a bit. He was as predictable as ever.  _How did you get this number?_

_That’s beside the point._

_Did Suzaku leave his phone on the table? I’ll have to remind him to passcode lock it._ There was a pause. Lengthy. The sort of pause that suddenly made C.C. realize she was staring at a blinking cursor and white screen,  _waiting_. Like she hadn’t always been waiting, like she hadn’t gotten sick and tired of  _waiting_.

“C.C.?”

Her eyes flicked up, bright gold meeting indigo with some unexpectedness. “Nunnally. You’re finished.”

The girl laughed, a little tittering and nervous as she laced her hands in her lap. C.C. slipped the phone back into her purse and might have pretended nothing had happened if it weren’t for the next question. An old one, familiar, like they were back several years, and Nunnally was smiling a different sort of smile as she asked, “Does he make you happy?”

C.C. might have frozen in response a week ago, a month ago, a year, but now she just laughed at the image that flashed across her mind, tight scowl drawn across delicate features and weary eyes. Or a sad smile like the one he was so fond of giving nowadays. “How do you know it’s a boy?”

She was teasing and leaning away from the wall as she approached Nunnally’s wheelchair. The bathroom had suddenly gone empty and silent. There was only the leaky faucet in the background amplifying the echo of their words as though the universe thought she needed the emphasis. “Because I only ever saw you laugh like that when you loved my brother.”

There was a muffled buzz at her side, added salt in the wound, so maybe her smile was a little bitter when she finally replied, “We should get back. They’re waiting.”

The second almost went unnoticed. She was too distracted by Suzaku’s hand at the small of her back as he pulled out her chair and Lelouch’s avoidant gaze as Nunnally returned to his. So, he wanted to talk business, and she’d thrown a wrench in his plans. Typical. She might have scoffed if she found it funny like she used to. 

But she didn’t. So maybe forgetting was their best course of action after all.

If Lelouch was any more agitated after their bathroom break, she pretended not to notice. Not until she was saying goodbye, not until they were clearing the plates, not until she was stepping out of the restaurant with his best friend on her arm did she look at him again. She was out of earshot by the time his hand fell from the half-hearted wave to the pocket of his slacks, and C.C. clutched her phone tighter. It seemed she hadn’t changed either. She was always making the same mistakes.

_Did you miss me?_

_I did._


	33. How Do You Kill a Witch? I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of how do you kill a witch? based on the indie rpg _the witch's house_.

The sun had just started to dip below the horizon when Lelouch exited the shop, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. The day’s sweltering heat and sticky sluggishness lingered, making him more eager to return home than usual. He had a basket in one hand with the day’s leftover goods and a set of keys in the other. The metal cut into his skin and felt cool.

“Rolo,” he called, rapping his knuckles against the frame of a door as a signal to hurry up. It took a few moments, but then the young boy appeared from the back, flour caked all over his clothes. Lelouch couldn’t help but raise a brow and give a poorly concealed chuckle.

“Brother…” Rolo’s pout soon gave way to a complacent half-smile, though, as he wiped his hands against his pants and quickly exited into the tepid breeze. The earlier bustling shop was now barren and empty, ready for another cycle tomorrow. Day in and day out. Lelouch felt a sudden tinge of annoyance at the thought as he locked the door, but before he could explore it, there was an explosion of voices somewhere out of view and then Suzaku’s tall form rounding the corner. It was easy to tell something was wrong by the frown, but before Lelouch thought twice about it, Rolo was waving him down.

Suzaku turned, expression forming a tight smile, and hurried over. No introductions, just “Lelouch, have you seen Shirley?”

The question sent waves of premonition through him, and he almost said, “Of course I have.” Shirley always visited him around mid-afternoon, either to bring lunch or to buy supplies, but the words stuck in his throat, and it took a good few seconds of digging through his memory to realize that no, he hadn’t. He saw her everyday except today.

“I–I don’t think Brother did… She didn’t come to the shop today… Is everything alright…?” Rolo’s anxious voice answered for him, eyes catching the last few rays of sun and looking bigger and more frightened than he probably was. Lelouch gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before he confirmed the boy’s statement with a hesitant nod.

“Yeah, she didn’t come by. Why? What happened?”

Suzaku’s face fell as if that was the worst possible answer he could have given and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh…” He gave a sharp exhale, as if preparing himself for the words he were about to say next, and held Lelouch’s skeptical gaze as he said, “She’s missing. Since last night, actually. She didn’t come home, and her parents have been looking all day. I’m going with the search party to check the forest.”

The news didn’t hit as hard as Lelouch thought it would. Probably because he was in denial, and his mouth moved on its own. “Have you asked C.C.?” The initials felt clumsy and awkward on his tongue. He hadn’t ever voiced it himself, only heard Shirley, so he hesitated on the pronunciation, eyes skirting to the side with a bit of uncertainty before returning to Suzaku’s bemused face.

“C.C. …?” The inflection at the end told Lelouch all he needed to know, and he shrugged it off.

“No one,” he amended. “Never mind.” He hefted the basket into Rolo’s hands and gave the boy as reassuring a smile as he could manage. “Rolo, can you take this home? I’m going to go with Suzaku and the search party.”

Rolo’s mouth snapped open as if in protest, but then the frown grew over his face, and he slowly shut it again. Nunnally was waiting for them. He nodded in understanding. “Okay, but be careful, okay? I’ll wait up with Nunnally.”

“If you need anything, ask Sayoko.” The woman spent more time at their house than her own. Rolo nodded furiously,  _I know already_  just shy of being said.

“I-I hope you find her…” He gave them both a weak smile and was gone. Suzaku let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and rubbed his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Lelouch suddenly felt an upwelling of pity. He looked exhausted, which was to be expected being the blacksmith’s boy.  

“Let’s go…” Suzaku pivoted, unvoiced concerns hanging thick in the air, but Lelouch shook his head.

“You go ahead. I’ll meet up with you in a bit.”

Suzaku frowned. “They’re already leaving. You won’t know where to find us.”

He refrained from scoffing, but the sentiment was there on his face. “A group of men shouting in the forest? I guess you’re right.”

The other’s tired huff of laughter reached his ears weak and strained, but the concern was real as he stepped forward and gripped Lelouch’s shoulder. They were almost the same height, but not quite. Lelouch was just barely taller.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to follow Rolo home anyway?”

Lelouch sounded convincing even to his own ears as he shrugged Suzaku’s hand away with a casual, “I can’t help it. It’ll be quick. Just to make sure he and Nunnally are alright.”

Suzaku shook his head, amusement crinkling his eyes slightly before it was replaced with worry again. “Fine, but hey.” He gave his friend a light pat on the chest with the back of his hand. “Be careful. I don’t think anyone in our village would… well, but. There have already been four disappearances in the past two months.”

 _Shirley would make the fifth_. Lelouch grimaced but said nothing. She wouldn’t because she couldn’t be missing. Her bright, cheery demeanor hung in his mind’s eye as though he’d seen her just yesterday which he had.

“I’ll be fine.” He tilted his head to the side, expression softening. “Really.”

It took another moment for Suzaku to step away, and when he did, his hand nevertheless lingered in Lelouch’s space. “Alright,” he said, reluctant and defeated. “But just hurry. We’re starting on the east side.”

He took another step, then another. “See you soon?”

Lelouch gave a casual wave. “Got it.”

It wasn’t until Suzaku’s retreating backside rounded a corner and disappeared entirely that Lelouch let himself relax, stiff posture collapsing in a slouch before he was straightening again and heading in the exact direction opposite of home. He’d lied, of course, but looking for Shirley was important. He couldn’t distract Suzaku with some trifling matter like this especially if he was wrong.

Shirley had told him the girl lived  _in_  the forest, but just how far in, he wasn’t sure. His eyes danced behind him to the ruddy oranges and darkening purples that signaled the rapid onset of night. The sun was completely gone now, leftover colors streaking across the sky and fading into dusk. He was a little worried too, but he shrugged off his concerns with pragmatics. Shirley had to be fine. She’d probably just stayed overnight at this friend’s house. Maybe she’d suddenly fallen ill or hurt herself, all plausible explanations. There was only the hostess to blame; she should have come into town and said something. He frowned as he climbed through the underbrush, breath catching a little from the effort, and tried to imagine this “C.C.” Probably an old lady if she couldn’t take care of herself or exit the home. Maybe a disabled younger person–his thoughts turned to Nunnally–but he doubted it if Shirley never mentioned anything. Either way, sometimes the girl was too kind for her own good. Inconveniencing herself for another person to this extent–he hoped she understood what grief her parents and friends were going through.

He didn’t know how long he’d walked in darkness, helped along only by the crescent moon, before he finally reached a clearing. At first, he’d thought he could make out the search party’s voices at a distance, but everything quickly lapsed into silence the deeper he went. It wasn’t an uneasy silence, but it made his heart beat in irregular thumps all the same. He was overthinking things probably. Lelouch kept going, through the low grass bathed in light from the moon overhead, and thought he might have arrived at his destination when a roof peeked out of the trees. Whoever built this house had some poor decision-making skills. It was out of the way. Too out of the way. It was no wonder C.C. didn’t seem to go into town and needed help with food, but he couldn’t shake the lurking sense of suspicion as the roof continued to widen, and soon it became very apparent that this wasn’t a house at all; it was a mansion. Maybe even a small castle. Vines hung from it like out of a fairytale, a small tower–chimney?–near the southern end. Lelouch was no stranger to extravagant living; this was all very reminiscent, enough to make his stomach turn, but he swallowed his discomfort as if unfazed and approached the comparatively modest door.

He knocked once, twice, thrice. “Hello?” he called though he doubted the inhabitants would be able to hear him at this distance. He took a step back to look at the darkness in every window, no light whatsoever. Had they already gone to bed? Just as the thought flashed across his mind, he reached out to try the handle even knowing it was hopeless and found it unlocked. The door gave way and swung into the lavish interior with hardly any prompting. Lelouch’s relief outweighed his surprise, and he didn’t hesitate entering and shutting the door behind him. At this point, all he wanted was to pick up Shirley and go home.

The place was… impressive. But empty. Not dusty but desolate. Lelouch had expected someone at least. A servant or maybe even a horde of servants. C.C. was obviously very wealthy, and it was curious, to say the least, that she needed a village girl to run her errands. Lelouch shook off the restlessness and moved quickly. He’d already wasted too much time.

He didn’t bother checking the first floor and took the stairs two at a time to the second, exhaustion weighing his limbs down like lead. It became obvious at the landing that he had his work cut out for him. Four doors greeted him and two hallways probably leading to yet more doors. He didn’t have time to search every one, so he picked the nearest and knocked. It was a little more ornate than the others, a pattern of birdlike ‘V’s inlaid in the wood, but there was no response from the other side. The thought occurred to him that he’d picked the wrong door, but instinct and something else told him he hadn’t, a peculiar sense of attachment to  _this_  specific room. Like someone was calling out to him. Lelouch shook his head at the ridiculousness and gripped the handle.

“Excuse me,” he called, irritation leaking through despite his best efforts. Like the front entrance, this one gave way easily. It took a moment for his eyesight to adjust to the darkness. The curtains were drawn; only the smallest sliver of light escaped the edges, but the room had a different feel from the rest of the house. A lived-in feel, and he grew more confident in his choice.

“Pardon,” he called again and was, again, met with silence. He ventured further in, footsteps muffled by the rug, and was just about to call once more when the door swung shut. The bang made him nearly jump out of his skin, but he was distracted from his alarm by the voice that had simultaneously called out from the far corner. He could just make out a woman’s form steeped in shadows.

“You’re Lelouch.”

She sounded unusually certain, and several questions immediately jumped to mind, but mostly, he was taken aback by the youthfulness of her voice. She didn’t sound elderly at all.

“Yes,” he said, forgoing introductions if she was going to, but the word came out a thin tremor in the spacious room, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “C.C., I assume?”

He took the silence for agreement. “I’m looking for Shirley. She didn’t come home last night. I thought she might be here.” He was a little surprised at his own brusqueness. Maybe he was just too tired and anxious for formalities, but that wasn’t quite the case. Something about this woman struck him as odd, and he wanted to spend as little time in her company as possible.

“I haven’t seen her.”

Lelouch frowned. He was expecting something a little more, well, substantial, but before he could pursue the matter, C.C. shifted. She stepped out from where she stood, near another window more tightly drawn. He found himself vaguely wondering whether she hadn’t been watching him, but most extraneous thoughts were washed away, and he found his breath hitching. She was very–ethereal, and he wasn’t just saying that because of her appearance. No person in the region had green hair, or gold eyes for that matter, or skin that looked so pale and wan it might have been translucent, but there was something else, something he couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was as simple as he thought she was beautiful, but he didn’t think that was it either. Unable to say anything, he settled for skirting his eyes to the side and swallowing. Well, she certainly wasn’t old. Maybe he hadn’t been listening as closely to Shirley as he thought.  

There was another beat of silence before he managed a deflated, “I see.”

“She left before sunset yesterday. I’ll let you know if she comes again.” There was something like detached concern now where there hadn’t been, but he couldn’t help the feeling she was trying to get rid of him. For all that Shirley had done and was doing for her, C.C. didn’t seem worried. His frown deepened. “And let me know when you find her,” she added almost as an afterthought after seeing his troubled expression.

She took a few steps toward the bed, white nightgown swinging around her ankles. Lelouch stood to the side, feeling awkward and unsatisfied. Maybe he had disturbed her sleep, but given Shirley was  _her_  friend too, he thought she’d be more… forthcoming. Distressed. Whatever.

“I–” he started, only to stop when she did, rooted at a spot halfway to the bed. She swayed, blanched, fell. “Oi!”

Lelouch caught her just before her head hit the bedside table, and she slumped in his arms like a rag doll. He hadn’t thought she looked as sick as this, but maybe he was wrong. Her breathing came in shallow pulls as though she might stop altogether very soon, and he found himself concerned despite his initial misgivings. She looked very vulnerable like this, delicate, with her eyelashes fluttering softly and all the muscles in her face relaxed. She went from aloof to helpless in a split second, and the change left him feeling whiplashed. He swept her into his arms light as a feather–which was saying something given his stamina–and carried her to the bed. He set her down as gently as if she were Nunnally, feeling strangely protective, before the chiming of a clock in the hall reminded him of the hour. His eyes jerked toward the window and the deepening darkness then resettled on the girl, frail and unconscious.

He pursed his lips into a thin line and sighed. She probably hadn’t eaten. He vaguely recalled Shirley mentioning she helped her cook though, by the looks of it, “helping” meant doing all the cooking herself. Again, Lelouch found himself wondering why such a sick, wealthy girl was so understaffed, but soon he was pulling the covers over her regardless and tucking her in. He gave her one last look over his shoulder before exiting the bedroom. He still had questions about Shirley, and she couldn’t tell him anything like this.

* * *

She was already up by the time he returned, hands clasped in her lap and head turned towards the window nearest him though her eyes were unfocused, unseeing. He hesitated and forgot to shut the door which shut by itself. A candle flickered on the bedside table; she must have gotten up. Though she still looked pale and weak, her voice was crisp and clear.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said as though she’d known exactly what he’d been up to the entire time. Lelouch felt his lips purse in spite of himself. No gratitude whatsoever not that he wanted or expected any, but she was painting a very specific image of herself in such a short time, and Lelouch didn’t think he liked it.

He carefully balanced the tray, steam fogging up his vision as he crossed the floor, and a stool he hadn’t noticed earlier suddenly appeared at her bedside. He set the platter and soup atop it instead of sitting then picked up the bowl and offered it at arm’s length. It had already cooled somewhat, spoon sliding to the side near his thumb, but C.C. only stared blankly, and Lelouch frowned again.

“Do you need me to…?” Lelouch asked though he felt ridiculous just thinking about feeding a stranger, prettiness and sickness aside.

“No,” she returned immediately, and there was a huff of disbelieving laughter. “Like I said, you didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Lelouch agreed, “I didn’t, but I couldn’t very well leave you alone either, could I?” He offered the strange girl a strained smile and moved the tray off to the foot of the bed before taking a seat.

“I’m not alone.”

As if on cue, there was a meowing at his feet. Lelouch started, and some soup spilled over the edge onto his fingers. A cat, black with yellow eyes not unlike C.C.’s, gave a needy yowl and leaped onto the bed. He thought he saw a wry smile out of the corner of his eyes, but the next he looked, C.C. was scratching the cat under its chin with just as dry an expression as ever.

“I can see that,” Lelouch scoffed and paused. “Does it have a name?”

“No name. It comes and goes.”

Another cue, and the cat bounced off again, disappearing through the door that he swore had swung shut but was now ajar. He watched the crack through which it disappeared a moment before returning to the matter at hand and offering the bowl a second time. He got straight to the point. “You should eat,” and “I just had a few more questions about Shirley.” His eyes inadvertently skimmed to the window again. It was late. Really late.

C.C. raised an eyebrow, and her hand brushed his as she accepted the food. He refrained from flinching. “Do you want me to eat, or do you want to talk about Shirley?”

The name sounded vaguely hostile coming off her lips. Lelouch opened his mouth to make some quick retort but found he had nothing to say. She was right in a sense. He loosened his hold and dropped onto the stool, both hands held in halfhearted fists over his knees as he waited. She didn’t seem fazed at all at having someone intently watch her eat, but there wasn’t much else to do, and chagrined as he was to admit it, he thought he finally understood why Shirley was so charmed by this woman. Understanding and feeling, however, were two entirely different things.

The time ticked by painfully. It was probably ten or later when she finally set the utensils aside. “So, what did you want to know?”

Lelouch let out a breath. “Shirley’s been coming home after sunset, not before.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“No.” Lelouch looked off to the side, momentarily unnerved by her unblinking stare before he returned to match it, confidence renewed. “I just wanted to confirm.”

“How do you know they haven’t already found her?”

“I–don’t. But it’s already been a day, and I just thought that…” Something like panic began twisting in his chest, the realization that Shirley really may have gone missing. He missed the curious look C.C. was giving him and quickly stood.

“I have to go. Thanks–for nothing.” The last part slipped out by itself, but once it was out there, he couldn’t do anything about it. So he turned to leave though he saw her expression darken. It suddenly got a bit harder to breath. Or think. His hand lingered on the doorknob, and his eyes blinked into the darkness outside her room waiting to engulf him.

His next words caused an audible stir from behind. The empty bowl clattered to the ground, and there was a reddening mark on her hand though it was her expression that struck him most. Betrayal, hurt, confusion. It was the most emotion he’d seen from her as of yet, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced with stern annoyance.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Lelouch pressed, amused. “It’s not bad. Prettier than C.C., at least.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she said darkly, hiding her expression by turning away and allowing her hair to fall over her shoulder. “Eavesdropping is a bad habit.”

“Intentionally, perhaps.” Lelouch shrugged, unable to explain why he felt the need to flaunt his new knowledge. “Well,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward. “Goodbye.”

“Will you come tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? I–” Lelouch stopped midway out the door. She’d turned toward him again, some unknown emotion etched in the lines of her face. Though he thought she looked warmer for it.

She gestured vaguely. “For Shirley,” she explained then added, “Weather and health permitting, I’ll be looking for her tomorrow too.” She bit her lip. “She’s my friend, after all.”

He wondered whom she was trying to convince and shook his head at the strange thought, rubbing his temple. He was tired. She was sick, and they were both worried, so their reactions were probably a little off too. He didn’t know what else to say other than, “Okay.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly as if unconvinced. “I hope she’s alright. Let me know if they find her.” The last word came out like a dismissal, and then she was turning away again, eyes focused on the far window still tightly drawn. No goodbye. Of course. He scoffed under his breath and didn’t bother closing the door. Doors seemed to close on their own in this house.

By the time he was outside and some distance away, he felt like he’d stepped out of a dream. C.C.’s image floated to the surface of his mind, persistent through his fatigue. He repeated the name he’d heard her mumble in her sleep and wondered where he’d heard it before. Some old legends told of witches that lived in the forest. No one believed in them anymore though.


	34. How Do You Kill a Witch? II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of how do you kill a witch?

Nunnally’s laughter sounded from everywhere at once, like little bells, and the slapping of her feet against hardwood floors, stone, carpet.

_“Arthur! Arthur, come here!”_

There was the distant sound of a cat meowing, but Nunnally’s voice never seemed to fade, only change direction, as though she were constantly right in front of him even though he’d never left C.C.’s bedside. He turned toward the door, as if expecting her to burst through at any moment, and he must have been smiling because C.C. scoffed at him.

“You have quite the sister complex.”

“You have thin walls,” he returned immediately, pivoting in the stool to meet her smug stare again.

“I made them thin. You don’t get to hear your sister’s laugh often, do you?”

Lelouch shrugged, putting up walls out of habit. He looked away for a moment, towards the windows that had been thrown open and the curtains billowing softly in the summer breeze. It was a beautiful day. Which only added to the surreal nature of the house, the room, C.C. herself.

“She tries to be strong,” he answered vaguely. Then, after a beat, “I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” C.C.’s fingers skimmed the pages of the book open on her lap. The wind blew hair around her face, but it never seemed to obscure her vision. She looked healthier. Lelouch, however, knew the truth.

He hummed in agreement and picked up the stack of books at his feet, setting them on the edge of the bed. “I’ll admit I never thought highly of magic. Or witches for that matter.”

He paused, longer this time, as his mouth went a little dry, and he felt sweat break out along his forehead. He told himself it was from the heat before clearing his throat. “Thank you, by the way.”

The next he looked up, a smile was curling around her lips, and there was something mischievous glinting in the depths of her eyes.

“What?” Lelouch bristled, shifting and setting another stack of books on the bed.

“Nothing,” she purred, and sometimes he wondered whether the cat wasn’t actually an extension of her body. “If you really wanted to show your gratitude though…”

She straightened, cupping her chin in her left hand as she motioned him forward with her right. “Come closer.”

Lelouch hesitated, leery, but inched forward anyway. “Well?”

“Closer.”

This was already closer than he would have liked; it was pushing the boundaries of discomfort. He could make out each individual eyelash and the scar just peeking out of her bangs, but he complied as another bout of laughter seemed to erupt from the corner of the room. They were close enough now that he could feel the breaths coming off her lips like sighs, and he struggled to keep her features in focus, those yellow eyes pulling him down like honey.

“What?” he murmured again, and just as he felt her shift under the covers, the bed creaking under the weight, there was a loud, familiar bang. Nunnally’s voice was actually at his backside now, not just perceived.

He nearly fell out of his seat in his haste. “Nunnally!”

“Brother!” Nunnally was doubled over, breathing hard with hair over her shoulder hiding her face, but he didn’t need to see it to know she was smiling, beaming. The cat hung between her hands like a sack of flour, legs swinging freely as the upper body struggled, but she had a firm grip between the armpits, and she wasn’t letting go. “I caught him!”

Lelouch laughed nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt and shooting C.C. a glare from the corner of his eyes. In this house, Nunnally wasn’t crippled or blind which was a good thing of course, the best thing, but then there was C.C. shooting him a knowing smirk back as she patted the bed.

“Come sit, Nunnally.”

Nunnally cradled the cat, closing the door with her heel before running to the bed and collapsing over it. The moment she loosened her fingers, the cat shot out with a yowl, bristling, then padded over to the window and jumped onto its sill. C.C. laughed, the humoring sort of laughter he’d gotten used to hearing from her, and nodded towards the mess of raised fur. “Arthur likes you. I’d never be able to do that and get away unscathed.”

Nunnally laughed in return, blue dressing hitching past her ankles as she climbed onto the bed and kneeled at the foot, hands feeling along her shins. He knew what she was thinking, and the guilt grew despite himself. He’d had his misgivings about Nunnally and C.C. interacting, and he still wasn’t sure whether this was the right decision. Wasn’t it cruel in a sense? Though, if Nunnally was happy, so was he.

“You have such a beautiful house, Miss C.C.! The library and the kitchen.” She grinned, violet eyes shining. “It seems like you can do anything with your magic if you can even help someone like me.”

She shifted, sitting with her legs beside her, and Lelouch’s face crumpled a little though he wasn’t sure whether it was from that or the almost imperceptible look of disappointment that flashed across C.C.’s eyes. “Not quite. I can’t help myself for one.”

All three of them lapsed into silence, and then there was only the soft, wet sounds of the cat grooming itself in the background and the chirping of birds in the distance. Lelouch found his thoughts wandering back to what he’d read a week prior when Nunnally’s question interrupted, and he felt himself stiffen immediately.

“Miss C.C. … do you think, though, that you could use your magic to help find our friend?”

The question was so hopeful and innocent that Lelouch felt his stomach churn.

“I’m trying, but I’m limited.” For once, he thought he detected sincere regret in the witch’s words. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you. Or Shirley.”

Nunnally shook her head vigorously. “No! Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I know you’re doing what you can, and this is more than I could have ever hoped for.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs out joyfully and flexing her toes. “It’s wonderful. Please don’t be sorry. Just focus on getting better, okay? And then I’m sure Miss Shirley will have come back, and we can all have fun together.”

She laughed, hiding her insecurities so skillfully she often even fooled him, and reached out for C.C.’s hand. C.C. returned the reassuring squeeze though her smile was a little weaker, a little wanner.

“I’m… feeling a little tired. Do you mind, Nunnally?” She addressed Nunnally but looked at Lelouch, and he understood immediately.

“We’ll come again tomorrow evening.”

He reached out, and Nunnally’s fingers slipped into his. “Yes, of course. Please rest well, Miss C.C., and don’t forget about the breads. They go bad in a few days.”

Nunnally dropped onto her feet, and Lelouch thought she looked vaguely sorry at the idea of leaving though maybe that was simply a projection of his own emotions.

“Be careful.” He said it casually, passing it off as a parting statement, but there was a pit of anxiety in his stomach, and it must have showed. Nunnally struggled fitting into her shoes, no doubt because her feet had been numb for so long, and C.C.’s eyes flicked from the girl to his face, faint smirk having returned.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Lelouch hummed, though it was an unconvinced hum, as Nunnally straightened to give a wave. “Tomorrow! We’ll come again.”

“Nunnally.” C.C. reached for the paper crane at the bedside table just as Lelouch nudged the door open. She breathed on it, and the piece of parchment took on life of its own, flying once around the room before settling down in Nunnally’s outstretched hands. “Teach me more next time, alright?”

“Mmm!” Nunnally nodded eagerly, enchanted by the folded, flapping wings. “It’s a promise!”

It only took a few steps out of the front entrance for Nunnally to collapse and wrap her arms around Lelouch’s neck as he hoisted her onto his back. He smiled thinly at her apologies, thoughts elsewhere, to the fact that C.C. only seemed to be getting sicker and the atmosphere in the village only seemed to be getting tenser. As though they knew something they didn’t. Or maybe it was only he and Nunnally who were out of the loop as he reflected on C.C.’s expression just before he’d closed the door and found himself wondering how much longer they could continue living like this.


	35. Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> suzaku questions c.c.'s "pregnancy." very loosely connected to [unholy trinity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513940).

“ _What!_ ”

Suzaku’s voice was so loud that it made Lelouch wince as he rushed to quiet him down.

“Shhhhh, Nunnally’s—”

"Suzaku? Brother? Did something happen?” Nunnally’s voice was full of concern. “Did someone get hurt?”

Lelouch stepped past Suzaku and met C.C. at the doorway, leaning over her and craning his head towards the living room.

“Nothing! Nothing happened; everything’s fine, Nunnally. Don’t worry; I just spilled some hot water is all.”

“Oh no, do you need help cleaning it up?”

Suzaku could just barely see Nunnally’s head behind Lelouch as she peeked from the living room, eyebrows still lightly furrowed with worry.

“Are you sure everything’s all right?”

“Yes, Suzaku’s already cleaned it up. We’ll be out in a second!”

There was a pause. He watched Nunnally wheel herself back and sighed when he finally turned around. His violet eyes met C.C.’s golden ones, and he shook his head.

“She’s joking.”

“I don’t like jokes,” C.C. immediately returned, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared Lelouch down.

“ _She’s joking,_ “ he repeated. His gaze hardened.

Suzaku couldn’t tell who was lying. Instinct told him it was C.C., but something else made him doubt. Given all of Lelouch’s recent stubbornness and secrecy, a pregnancy would’ve made  _sense_ , and if that really was the case, well. He supposed he couldn’t tell him to leave her anymore.

A few more seconds passed with neither of them standing down, and then, surprisingly, C.C. did. She looked away, shrugging halfheartedly.

"If you say so,” she answered ambiguously and slipped over to the counter where she took a seat on one of the stools. She leaned her elbow against the cool marble and her head against her forearm; her hair spread out like silk on the white stone.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I came in here to tell you that you boys are taking an awfully long time to refill a pot of tea. And also,” she paused to flip hair over her shoulder, “That Nunnally said she wanted to go shopping today.”

“Shopping?” Lelouch asked, but before he could inquire further, Suzaku interrupted.

“Wait, wait.  _Are_  you pregnant?” He grimaced at C.C. The idea was too horrific; he had to be sure.

C.C. met his gaze. “Well, Lelouch?” she asked without taking her eyes from his. Suzaku wasn’t as good at staring her down as Lelouch; he had to look away after a few seconds, refocusing on the Cheese-kun clock next to the fridge.

“ _No_. Don’t take everything she says so seriously, Suzaku.”

Part of him wanted to pursue the topic, but the dismissive way Lelouch had answered told him he’d get on his friend’s nerves if he did so. Suzaku gnawed on the inside of his cheek and fell silent.

"I can’t go. You two can though.”

“ _Me_? And  _her_?” Suzaku sputtered, straightening with an alarmed look on his face.

“I think she wanted to spend time with  _you_ , though, Lelouch.” C.C. pointed a finger languidly in her dark-haired companion’s direction, and his face immediately fell. He ran a hand through the front of his hair in an almost agitated fashion before exhaling slowly and leaning back against the doorway.

"Suzaku, can you bring those out to Nunnally?” He nodded towards a plate of cookies next to the sink. “She must have forgotten about them.”

Suzaku made to protest; his mouth was half open and his brow curved in a frown when Lelouch cut him off.

“We’ll continue our discussion later.”

There was little else he could say. The finality in Lelouch’s tone told him anything else he said would’ve been useless. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright.”

He took the plate in one hand and brushed by C.C. without so much as a glance. When he was gone, she chuckled very quietly and lifted her arm off the marble.

“He really dislikes me.”

Lelouch shook his head. “I know. I told you to be nice.”

“I was.”

“Not like that. You’re only making it worse,” he growled, shuffling back to the counter and taking the water off the burner.

“Well, you should be clearer next time.”


	36. The Princess & The Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. and euphemia discuss their problems with one another.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Euphemia." 

Even from this distance, the noise was palpable, but it was quiet enough that C.C. could make out the other’s sigh, the shift in weight as she leaned her cheek against her forearm and stared into the distance.

"I know,” she murmured and buried her chin into the delicate chiffon of her dress. “I know, but—”

“Why are you talking about this with me in the first place? Wouldn’t Cornelia be the better choice? Or Lelouch?”

“Because I trust you." 

Her answer was instant and earnest, eyes glimmering with that staunch conviction she often saw in her male counterpart. They really were made for one another, C.C. mused and cupped her chin in her hand.

"I trust you just as much as Lelouch does.”

That earned a short bark of laughter. It was more diminutive and condescending than real laughter, but the pale girl didn’t seem to notice as she leaned against the railing with a soft smile and a softer tilt of the head. 

“It’s true. We all trust you very much, C.C. I know I do, anyway, so if you tell me it’s a bad idea. I'll—”

She stopped short for the umpteenth time and bit her lip. Despite what she said, C.C. couldn’t help but get the feeling she’d already made her decision. What she wanted now wasn’t advice but support, the one thing C.C. couldn’t give.

It was chilly. C.C. leaned an elbow against her knee and watched her breath spiral upwards like smoke from the burning end of a cigarette. She’d dropped the habit a long time ago. Sometimes, like now, she thought about picking it up again.

“Well, Euphemia. It seems you’ve already decided, and what’s bothering you isn’t so much the idea of leaving the family, it’s how that might affect your boyfriend.”

C.C. watched the color rise to her cheeks as if on cue and smirked very faintly. 

“I don’t know whom you mean.”

“Well,” C.C. sighed, “I’m not talking about incest for one.”

“C.C.!" 

C.C. exhaled with some effort, a cross between a sigh and a scoff, and slipped from the banister. She landed on the marble with a light clicking of heels, bare forearms catching herself on the railing as light frost quickly dusted her skin and melted. The frigid temperatures made her shiver. And maybe a hint of concern had too. 

"Do what you will.” She tilted her head, bright eyes eerily vibrant and sharp in the winter darkness, and suddenly Euphemia was unnerved. She played with the fringes of her sleeve and wondered exactly how different they were for her to be able to look at others the way she did. As though she could see right through them.

“Tell me, Euphie.”

Euphie’s head snapped up at the familiar nickname. Familiar as it was, though, she’d hardly ever heard C.C. use it. A small smile lit up her face, and she folded her hands in quiet contemplation.

“Exactly how much do you know of your father’s work?”

Her expression quickly turned bitter, and she pulled away. “Enough,” she said softly, voice barely above the hum of the crowd, “To know i want nothing to do with it.”

“Then go ahead,” C.C. returned, forefinger playing with a wisp of hair teased out of place. “Leave the family. Charles favors you enough to allow it, I think. Though I can’t promise your safety, maybe you’ll be happier for it at least.”

Euphie brightened at the other’s words. “Do you think so?" 

She grasped the girl’s hands, and white contrasted starkly against black. "Do you really think so, C.C.?”

The gesture caught her off guard, just a bit, so her answer came a little later than it should have with a sigh and a glance elsewhere, past the pink ringlets and white silk into the lighted ballroom. 

“That’s not to say I approve,” she amended, retreating to a more comfortable distance, one that wouldn’t leave her feeling so  _involved_. “And,” she added, tone clipped despite the faint sparkle of amusement in her honey gaze, “I’m sure Suzaku would follow you anywhere as well.”

Euphie’s eyes darted away; her hands fell to press against her own rosy cheeks as she murmured in reply, “You’re wrong. This isn’t about Suzaku at all, and anyway, what about you?”

C.C. blinked. “What about me?”

“Why are you still here? Why haven’t you left a long time ago?”

It was a fair question, not that she had a fair answer or any that she wanted to share, but. She was a master at half-truths and white lies, no worse than Lelouch, so she took a short breath and did what she was best at doing. 

“I had a debt to owe.”

“Had?” Euphie pressed before her attention caught on something in the corner, something more interesting that made her turn to leave with a roguish idea on her face.

“Where are you go—oh.” Too late.

“To give you some privacy,” she answered despite the frown on C.C.’s face that said she wanted anything but. "You two had a fight, didn’t you?“

C.C. would have laughed again if she didn’t think she’d laughed at enough ridiculous things for one night.

"Don’t lie to me.” Euphie placed a hand on her hip at the other’s silence. “I know you both well enough to understand when you’re fighting.”

The girl’s encouraging smile did nothing for how much C.C.  _wasn’t_  inclined to see Lelouch. Not for any particular reason really or so she told herself, but if the boy was persistent, then… 

“Hello, Lelouch.” Aloof, distant, cold. That was how they had started after all, and she had no problem returning to her roots.


	37. City Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c.c. and lelouch are witches in an urban fantasy setting.

C.C. lights onto the platform and feels the crowd subconsciously part for her. She never casts overt spells, only those that leave people guessing, as inconspicuous as a light sneeze. She smiles to herself as she just makes the train, steps over the line the second the doors threaten to close. 

He’s here again, the same boy, watching her from the second car with eyes knitted together and leery. She ignores him as she has for the past several months. They have a silent conversation in the hum of peopled space and the loud screeching of subway tracks in dark tunnels. It’s a conversation with no clear ending or beginning, only a vague notion that it happened and neither got the last word. Then she steps out and disappears, and they don’t meet again until next morning. Or maybe the morning after that if she’s lucky. 

Today, however, he follows her. He follows her at a distance for two, three, four blocks until she finally tires of being stalked and darts into a narrow alleyway. The timing is just right to her to reappear two streets over with him none the wiser—or so she thinks. The next she looks, believing herself triumphant, there he is closer than before, violet eyes sparking with some kind of “ah-ha!” 

He catches her wrist and stops. Someone clips his shoulder with a loud “excuse you!” but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“I thought so,” he says, vaguely smug for having caught her off guard. “I’m not the only one after all.”

C.C. gives him a look that could be interpreted either as “you’re insane” or “tell me more.” He tugs at the tie loose around his neck, and she thinks it very funny that it’s the most prim and proper of Charles’s sons who’s ended up inheriting his mother’s quirks. It just  _had_ to be Lelouch. 

“I’m a witch too.” He waits, and maybe he thinks he’s finally got the upper hand. He waits for surprise and receives only a slow smirk instead.

“Well done, Mr. Lamperouge. You finally noticed. I was wondering when you would." 

Before he can respond, she kisses him and disappears, leaving only the smell of mountain ash in her wake. 


	38. Dressing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a spin-off of that one dressing room scene from the crack R2 sound episode 'lelouch and impossible part time jobs.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NSFW:** semi-public sex, hand jobs

C.C. snaked around him before he could get another word in edgewise, and if he wasn’t so distracted by the unexpected softness of her breasts or the warmth and delicate slenderness of her encircling arms, he might have managed to put an early stop to it.  _Before_  her hands slid down the front of his pants and then, quickly after, between the elastic waistband of his underwear. He hadn’t even noticed her undo the buckle, but the next he looked, there it was, undone.

“C-C.C.!” he hissed and managed to grab one of her wrists though it was too little too late. Her other set of digits had already wrapped around his half hard dick. When it came to  _sensual_  matters, Lelouch wasn’t very resistant to provocation, so it took little more than a suggestive sigh and an accompanying pump to make him go weak in the knees. He swore loudly at being outmaneuvered—again—and almost didn’t have the presence of mind to process her rejoinder.

She sounded pleased, though. Very pleased. Her fingers began moving faster, sending shocks of electricity up and down his spine. Lelouch braced himself against the table where she had cornered him, measuring tape still stuck between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand.

“Here?” he hissed, horrified, but his voice had already gone weak and lost all resistance. The sickly pleasure pooling in his stomach slowly began to take precedence.

“Relax,” she purred, lips pressed against his back such that he could feel the curve of her smirk through his crisp dress shirt now faintly damp with sweat.

He didn’t know where or how she’d learned this, and he didn’t want to know. She stood on tiptoe to nip at the shell of his ear, obviously enjoying his plight, and pumped. Once, twice, three times in quick succession. By the fourth, it was all he could do to stop himself from moaning. By the fifth, he felt all color drain from his face when a very indecent moan did escape. It took a few seconds to register the source of the sound, and when he finally realized it was coming from  _him_ , all the color came rushing back tenfold. He must have been beet red, but the small back room was too dim to make out much even with the mid afternoon sun outside.

C.C. paused to soak in his flustered state, deft fingers tracing the vein of his member up to the base.

“C.C.!” He tried to growl, but it came out as a low groan at best. The temperature must have risen several degrees, but it was surprisingly chilly when she finally pulled him out, fully erect.

She laughed at his agitation, mouthing obscenities into his feverish skin and the curve of his shoulders.

“Can you  _not_  insult me when we’re—!”

“Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?”

“This isn’t—mngh!”

She thumbed his slit and spread the pre-cum down his length, moving tantalizingly slow all of a sudden. Playing, toying, testing his limits and drawing out an ordeal that did  _not_  need to be anymore drawn out than it already was.

“Ah-ha!” Lelouch clasped a hand against his mouth and bent further over the table. He didn’t need his body betraying him, but the way her fingers had gone slick with his fluids was a louder admission of defeat than any sound he could make.

She worked quietly, teasing nerves he didn’t even know existed until he nearly snapped from frustration alone.

“Can you just…  _hurry it along_?” His voice came out far more strained and…  _needy_  than he had intended, but C.C. didn’t seem to take kindly to being rushed. Her grip loosened without warning, and he all but yelped in protest. He was glad he didn’t. She never would have let him live it down otherwise.

“If you have a complaint, you can finish yourself.”

She unstuck from his backside and had almost removed herself altogether when the familiar tinkling of a bell caught both their attentions. Lelouch could nearly envision the Chesire grin spreading across her face.

“No, wait, C.C., don’t!” he rasped, loud whisper cut short when she buried her hands back down his front with twice the determination as before.

He really couldn’t stop himself from groaning now.

“Lulu?”

Fuck.

“It’s… Shirley,” he managed through gritted teeth and beaded sweat.

“Then come quickly,” she returned, amusement oozing from every syllable.

“Lulu? Are you in?” Her voice was growing closer, and the tapping of flats on linoleum floors set off alarms in his head.

“C.C.!” he half-moaned, the frantic note of his words lost in the approach of his imminent climax. She was at the entrance, pulling back the curtains, when a final twist sent him over the edge.

“Lulu?”

“S-Shirley!” His voice came out a diminutive squeak.

C.C. separated herself and stood to one side of the table, left hand conveniently hidden behind her back.

He smoothed the front of his shirt, hoping the untucked hem was enough to hide the unbuttoned, unzippered nature of his trousers.

“A-Are you okay? Your face is red. You don’t have a fever, do you?”

Her eyebrows knitted together in worry, and guilt settled in his stomach like a rock. C.C. hid a growing smirk behind a pretend cough.

“Oh!”

Shirley started, seeming to have just noticed the other girl in the room.

“Sorry, were you helping someone? I’m Shirley.”

C.C. gave a halfhearted wave with her free hand. “Nice to meet you. I see you have business with the tailor. I won’t get in your way then.”

She leaned off the table, careful to keep her hand out of view.

“Oh, I’m the one who interrupted you! It’s fine! I can wait. I was just, um.”

Her eyes skirted to the floor, and her fingers laced together as she stuttered, “I was just, um, wondering if you could help fix one of my dresses, Lulu?”

Lelouch had regained enough command over himself that he nearly sounded normal when he replied, “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. Which one?”

Shirley pulled a blue sundress from her purse and held it in front of her or, rather, hid behind it as she added, “It’s, um, a little, um, tightinthechest. So I was just, um, wondering if you could loosen it…?”

Her face might have been brighter than Lelouch’s had been, C.C. observed, but she knew how oblivious and dense her boy could be, so she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t notice.

“Of course. Can you, ah, give me another moment here? You can change in the dressing room while you wait.”

“Sure!” she squeaked. “Thanks, Lulu!”

Lelouch’s smile disappeared as soon as she was gone, and all the tension left his body at once. He slumped back against the table, weary from the physical exertion, and shot C.C. a venomous glare from the corner of his eye.

“What?” she asked innocently, bringing her stained hand back around and fanning her fingers out wide for him to see. Thin ropes of white connected each digit, and she positively glowed at his discomfort. “So you get off on getting caught. Pervert.”

“Shut up,” Lelouch grumbled, embarrassment still high on his cheeks when she raised her hand face-level and offered him another smirk.

“What are you doing?” he asked cautiously, eyes narrowed as he watched her tongue flick over her knuckle.

“What—!”

“You taste sweeter than most, ‘Lulu.’”

Ah. She didn’t think he could get any redder, but she guessed she was wrong. Without another word, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the bathroom door. She didn’t even get to question his intentions until he had her hand under the faucet and was religiously scrubbing her down with soap and water. It took a few moments of watching him fumble and mumble and grow yet redder before a genuine smile appeared, one that reached all the way to her eyes.

She leaned forward, hair forming a curtain between their faces as she whispered, “Really, you’re too cute.”

“ _Be quiet_ ,” he growled and didn’t react again to her teasing until they were done. She once again spread out her fingers for him to see, now clean and rubbed raw.

“Happy?” she quirked.

“Hardly,” he mumbled as he wiped his hands on a paper towel and hastily rebuttoned, rezippered, and restuffed his shirt into his pants.

“Well.” C.C. raised an eyebrow at him through the mirror. “It looks like I’ve made a mistake then. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

She made to leave only to be dragged back by an insistent tug.

“Wait. That’s not—That’s not what I… meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” She was teasing him again but in the subtle way that he wasn’t sure whether she was or she wasn’t. “Speak up, or I won’t be able to hear you.”

“What I  _meant_  was that… I, uh. I would be willing to, ah.  _Return the favor._ ”

C.C. blinked at him. Then she blinked at him again. Then she was laughing at him as though he had told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. In the midst of his chagrin, he distantly wondered when he had ever seen C.C. laugh.

“Consider it a gift,” she returned when the laughing had finally died to chuckling and then to an amused murmur. She patted his chest. “You’re too earnest for your own good, boya.”

Lelouch scoffed and tried to salvage what dignity he had left. “I simply don’t want to be indebted to someone like  _you_  again.”

“Is that so?” she asked, coy and mischievous once more as she pulled him close by the tie. “Then how about you repay me right here and now?”

Her lips ghosted across his, and if she wasn’t convinced he’d die of a heart attack, she wouldn’t have amended her statement so quickly.

“Fine,” she sighed and pushed him away by the shoulder. “Pizza. But I want you to make it this time. With the freshest ingredients. Do that, and I’ll consider us even.”

Lelouch heaved a sigh of relief when she wasn’t looking. That he could do.

“Deal. It’s a promise.”

C.C. shrugged into her jacket and pulled hair from the back of it as she added, “You really are hopeless.”

Lelouch shuffled his feet where he stood, glancing to the clock and noting he still had several hours on his shift. Rivalz would most likely be dropping by soon. He could only imagine what would have happened if it had been him rather than Shirley who had walked in. The thought alone was enough to make him cringe. C.C. was already at the door by the time he thought to remind her to  _please_  not visit him anymore when he was working.

“C.C.”

“Hm?” She threw a glance over her shoulder.

“…Thanks,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze. “I guess I had a lot of built-up. Tension.”

There was a lengthy pause. For a moment, he thought she’d left and looked up only to meet a knowing grin and smiling amber eyes.

“Obviously,” she hummed and left.


	39. Medieval Melodrama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> medieval AU where the unholy trinity befriended each other as child slaves before getting separated.

Lelouch ached, but he couldn’t stop. Over the sound of his own hard breathing, he made out the pounding of feet—his, Suzaku’s, C.C.’s just behind and, farther away, their pursuers’. He was glad they’d picked a night with the full moon to illuminate the forest path, but that didn’t do much to keep the branches from lacerating his face and the odd holes in the ground from tripping his feet.

No sprains. He repeated the mantra like a prayer. No sprains. No sprains. If any one of them twisted an ankle, it was over. It was probably a vain prayer, but if nothing else, at least have Nunnally and Suzaku escape. If he couldn’t, at least them.

* * *

The corridor was empty and mostly silent save for the bark of faraway laughter and the occasional bursts of light and sound when someone exited or someone else entered. Lelouch watched and waited, his little fingers curled into tight fists. If they found him lurking around the banquet hall at this time of night, he’d be punished for certain. Where was she?

“Lelouch.”

He almost jumped out of his skin and yelped, but the soft touch at his elbow, the large yellow eyes, shut him up. His cheeks flushed with anger regardless, and he nearly shouted at her if the pale moonlight hadn’t lit up her sooty face and hollowed cheeks.

He frowned, anger aside, and grabbed her hand. She flinched but didn’t move away.

“What happened? We haven’t seen you in days.”

“I’ve been washing bodies.” She answered in the same cursory way she always did, but Lelouch detected exhaustion and shortness of breath and might have protested if she didn’t interrupt. “Let’s go.”

She pulled away, but Lelouch grabbed her hand once more, and they stayed like that until they arrived at their destination. C.C. led the way. She knew the mansion like the back of her hand; she’d practically been born here, after all, so he wasn’t surprised. But at the thought, he held onto her a little tighter. Nunnally and Lelouch’s room was always where they met. It was small and cramped and dirty despite all of Lelouch’s best efforts, but it was homey compared to the barren walls in C.C.’s shack and the small corner where Suzaku curled up after a day of cleaning stalls and shoveling manure.

She let go of his hand when they rounded the final corner and pushed on the first door tentatively. When it didn’t budge, she knocked thrice, paused, then knocked thrice more. The faint glow of light under the door extinguished at the first knock then reappeared on the sixth. There was some shuffling and creaking, and then the heavy wood swung back to reveal Suzaku’s face that was both tired and relieved all at once. “C.C., Lelouch. We were starting to worry.”

The young boy frowned when C.C. walked into the room and noted that the rags she wore for clothes were that much thinner. Flakes of dirt and dandruff clung to the ends of her chopped hair, and mud blackened the soles of her feet. Some time during their walk, though, she must have rubbed the grime from her face because it looked a little whiter as she moved into the candlelight to sit beside Nunnally. Her fingers immediately laced with the bed stricken girl’s. Lelouch followed suit, shaking his head at Suzaku’s inquisitive stare. ‘What happened to C.C.?’ was the wordless inquiry to which Lelouch responded with only a vague hand gesture.

“Don’t ask,” he muttered and took the empty stool by the bed. Suzaku stood a distance away, worry in his eyes as Nunnally coughed and squirmed.

“Has her fever gone down?” C.C. asked, voice soft as she leaned forward to touch the younger’s cheek. She withdrew her hand with an immediate grimace.

Suzaku shook his head. “I stole some soup from the kitchen, but it didn’t seem to help.” A pause. “What are we going to do, Lelouch?”

They both looked at him, Suzaku’s jaded, weary stare and C.C.’s curious, empty one. Lelouch’s hands formed fists, caught in the tough burlap they were forced to use as sheets, and his voice didn’t waver when he said, “We run. Like we always planned.”

* * *

“Keep running.” C.C.’s breathless whisper could just barely be heard over the din of the forest. Suzaku tripped and righted himself. Nunnally whimpered. The shouting grew louder, and suddenly it occurred to all four of them that they weren’t going to make it.

* * *

C.C. stuffed more bread into Lelouch’s pockets even as he squirmed. 

“C.C., C.C.— _stop_. That’s enough.” 

Lelouch always became short with C.C. so quickly. Suzaku never asked why or how they even met in the first place. He had only known C.C. through Lelouch, and suddenly she seemed like a natural part of their lives, as though she had always been there and he simply hadn’t noticed. Little moments like these, however, made him want to ask, but he shut up when Nunnally shivered violently against his side, and his only concern became how better he could wrap her in his arms.

C.C., preoccupied with other issues at the moment, frowned and held up the last two loaves. “These won’t fit in mine, and we can’t just leave them.” 

“Give them to me.”

Nunnally continued coughing, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks flushed. “I-I can carry one too…” she murmured, curled around Suzaku and clutching at the front of his sweat-soaked tunic as he shifted under the covers to take the proffered loaf. 

He broke it in half and handed one part to her. She took it with a weak smile and an even weaker cough. Under any other circumstances, she would have rejected the idea of running away. Life wasn’t ideal, but it was safe, and she didn’t mind as long as she had her brother and Suzaku. It was too dangerous, she would’ve said, but in her current state, she could hardly talk much less dissuade the rest of the company. Nunnally had only nodded as he explained, caught between consciousness and some fever-induced dream state. 

With her hands free, C.C. leaned forward and brushed aside the clumps of hair sticking to Nunnally’s forehead. Suzaku flashed her a nervous, little smile as they swapped places. The moment his feet touched the ground, he was at the hole in the wall they called a window, eyes scanning the courtyard. 

“Is it time, Lelouch? The guards seem to be getting antsy." 

Lelouch watched as C.C. applied a wet rag to Nunnally’s clammy skin and gently smoothed away the beads of sweat with cold water. His lips formed a thin, unmoving line, and he was silent for a full minute before giving a resolute nod. “We should go.” 

* * *

"We’re not going to make it." 

C.C. voiced what they were all thinking and stopped. 

"C.C.!” Lelouch hissed, skidding to a stop as well and clambering back up the small slope with an outstretched hand. “Hurry!" 

She only shook her head, once, twice, three times and remained rooted to the spot. The rustling grew louder. The entire earth seemed to groan with the footsteps of men even though Lelouch knew there could have been only a dozen at most. But twelve men against four children? Even with Suzaku, they didn’t stand a chance. He felt fear tighten his throat, and then desperation made him lunge out and grab her wrist. 

"Lelouch!” Suzaku shouted from somewhere up ahead, but his words were drowned out by unfamiliar voices that were closing in quickly and seemingly from every direction. 

“Did y’hear that?” “They went this way!”

“C.C.,  _please_.” C.C.’s only response, though, was to shove her pack of supplies into his free hand. 

"They’re coming, and it’s my fault. So I’ll distract them." 

If Lelouch wasn’t in such a state himself, he might have noticed she was trembling.  _Shaking_.

"There’s no time.” Her words ran into each other in her haste, and she tugged. “Let go of me, Lelouch." 

He didn’t. In fact, his grip tightened. “We  _promised_.”

"Let go of me,” she repeated, casting glances over her shoulder all the while. “Let go of me, Lelouch!  _Please_!” 

* * *

They had hardly been out of danger for fifteen minutes when C.C. stopped, wide-eyed and tense all over. It took another couple of steps for either boys to notice and a few more for either to slow.

"What are you doing?” Lelouch frowned.

“They’re coming.”

There was only stunned silence at first and the rustling of wind in leaves. Then Lelouch reared up, indignant as ever. “That’s impossible! They shouldn’t even know we’ve left until sunrise. How—?”

“No. No, she’s right. I-I hear them too.” Suzaku had gone stock still as well with eyes just as wide and scared.

No one moved. No one even breathed, and then C.C.’s whispered “run” sent them crashing into the underbrush.

* * *

He dropped her like hot iron, and she immediately retreated into the shadows where he could no longer make out the uncertainty and tears. There were only her bright yellow eyes shining with some ethereal light all their own and the silhouette of a smile, very C.C.-like.

“I’m a witch, remember? I’ll be fine.”

He ignored the trembling of her voice and drew up the hood of her cloak. “Meet up with us as soon as possible.”

Suzaku’s voice reached them from some distant location, and she pushed him back. “Hurry!”

Lelouch was already moving forward, leaving her behind, and her small figure looked very lonely in the big, shadowy expanses that waited to swallow her up. He gulped with much effort and shouted as loud as he dared, “Find us! We’ll be waiting!”

The next he looked, she was gone, and his stomach dropped. “You have to be okay,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “You  _have_  to be.”

* * *

Lelouch felt as though his heart was going to burst from his chest at any moment. Exhaustion had already turned his legs to lead and burnt out his lungs.

“How did they know!”

Even he could make out the sounds now, the tremors of the forest floor and the thundering of many determined men on foot. He even thought he heard the barking of dogs. Hunting dogs. As though they were things to be hunted.

“Mao.”

“Mao?”

Lelouch turned to look behind and nearly ran into a bush.

“He must have overheard me,” she breathed, head lowered and eyes downcast. “I’m s—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Suzaku barked over his shoulder with Nunnally clinging tightly to his back. Even in the dim light, Lelouch could make out the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the ferocity of his eyes. “Just run!”

Almost instinctively, Lelouch grabbed C.C.’s hand. Her eyes flicked up in surprise, but he merely started running again.

“You’re slowing me down,” she murmured halfheartedly and tightened her grip.

“Shut up” was all he could wheeze in reply, but he thought C.C. almost looked happy. The situation was dire, and the consequences of being caught were worse, but for once, C.C. looked happy. She was a strange girl, he thought, and stubbornly pulled her along.

* * *

Suzaku looked bewildered and beside himself with worry when Lelouch finally appeared from a dense pack of willows.

“Where’s C.C.?”

Lelouch shook his head and motioned for them to keep going. Suzaku didn’t ask again. The forest seemed to go on forever, and for a while, it didn’t seem as though anything had changed. The impending feeling of doom lingered; it compounded until the voices were at their heels. They were through the trees they’d just left behind, lurking just a few steps away, so close Lelouch fancied he could feel their breaths down his neck. For a split second, he nearly questioned whether  _they_  weren’t the ones who had been abandoned. Had C.C.—?

“Oi! There she is!” “Get her!”

The sounds of pursuit took a sharp turn to the right and faded. They continued fading until they could hardly be heard at all.

Then a shriek. A girl’s shriek cut short.

“C.C.!” Lelouch jerked back, caught his foot on a rock, and next he was tumbling head over heels off the beaten path. He didn’t know how long he fell or how far, only that when he stopped, it felt as though the world had given out beneath him. There was nothing but darkness and stars and the vertigo that preceded unconsciousness.

“Lelouch! Lelouch! Are you alright! Where are you!”

Suzaku’s voice came as though from a great distance, and all Lelouch could do was groan. He couldn’t quite feel his shoulder. There was only a dull ache where it should have been that grew sharper and sharper until he yelped from the pain.

“Lelouch!” Suzaku skidded down the rest of the steep slant and landed a few steps away.

“Nunnally.” Suzaku shrugged, and her head bobbed against his back. “Nunnally, are you okay? I’m going to set you down, alright?”

He took her quiet whimper as a yes and gently loosened his grip. His arms had gone numb and gave out almost immediately. Nunnally landed in a pile of dry leaves, and Suzaku inadvertently plopped onto the ground beside her. It took a moment of panting before he crawled over on shaking limbs. Lelouch could hear Nunnally’s labored breathing in the background but aside from that, nothing.

He had turned onto his side with his injured arm exposed. It took just a few prods and hisses for Suzaku to confirm that Lelouch had broken his shoulder.

“I’m-I’m fine… But C.C. …”

He didn’t need to see Suzaku’s face to know the expression he was making.

“Lelouch… you heard that scream. It had to be—”

“We have to go back.” Lelouch struggled to right himself, putting all his weight onto his good arm. “We have to go back for her.”

“That’s…”

Before Suzaku could get another word in edgewise, Lelouch had clambered to his feet. He swayed where he stood then started walking back the way they came.

“Lelouch! Lelouch, stop, we can’t—!”

“What if she’s dead?”

They both fell silent at that. The clouds shifted, and moonlight filtered down through the trees to illuminate their miserable faces.

“Slaves are worth more alive than dead,” Suzaku intoned, hollow and mirthless. “Lelouch, Nunnally lost consciousness when we were running.”

“What!” Lelouch pivoted so quickly he nearly fell again. Angry steps took him to her side, and he could feel the heat radiating off her small body even before he knelt down. “Why didn’t you say anything!”

Nunnally might as well have been on fire with the way her forehead burned. Suzaku stood after a pause and followed suit. “I care about C.C. too, but. We escaped in the first place for Nunnally, didn’t we?”

He was right, of course. They couldn’t risk it, but Lelouch clutched at the front of his shirt anyway where his chest heaved with the realization. There really was nothing they could do. They were just children.

“We’ll wait for her in town. We’ll find a doctor for Nunnally, and then we’ll wait for her. She said she would come meet us.”

Suzaku shifted his weight from one foot to the other before kneeling beside him. “Okay,” he said simply.

His arms circled the girl, and he hoisted her onto his back once more. “And if she doesn’t,” he added, “we’ll come back for her.”

* * *

Lelouch sighed. It was past noon again, and Nunnally hadn’t bothered to wake him. He moved his forearm from his eyes and blinked at the light that had found its way into the room through the cracks in the curtain. Everything always seemed a little surreal after waking from a nightmare. Not that he ever remembered what they were about, but they always happened around the same time of season. It wasn’t until Suzaku brought up the incident nearly eight years ago that Lelouch finally began making sense of it all.

He gently tousled his hair with a yawn and pulled back the covers. The smell of food wafted through the door. Nunnally had gotten very good at cooking under his tutelage to the point that she had almost replaced him. She often made dinner and lunch and who made breakfast depended on who woke earlier. His sister was growing into a fine young woman, and the thought was both gratifying and a little disturbing. Pulling on a clean shirt, he opened the door separating the only two rooms and greeted Nunnally with a bright smile. 

“Good morning, Nunnally." 

"Good  _afternoon_ ,” she corrected in jest and wheeled herself into the middle of the floor. The place was sparsely furnished, but it was homey nonetheless. Suzaku observed that he always had a knack for making the best out of a bad situation, and he’d merely shrugged. He didn’t really see this as  _living_. It was more like  _surviving_ , but as long as Nunnally was happy, he didn’t really care. 

"You should have woken me up earlier,” he laughed and took a seat at the table set for two. There was bread and butter and milk, and from the way the pot boiled over the fire, he assumed she’d prepared a soup too.

Nunnally shook her head. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Brother. You deserve the rest. Oh!” 

She dropped the spoon back into the hearth and pushed herself over to the window where a package rested on the sill. “Someone from the castle delivered more fabric. Look!”  

She undid the string easily, and what looked like black velvet or silk tumbled over the floor. She immediately picked it up to rest over her lap, but her face was bright when she said, “Isn’t it wonderful we don’t have to pay for it ourselves? The duchess must be a beautiful woman. She’s going to be so happy with the dress you make her, I know it!” 

Lelouch smiled wryly and ran a hand through his hair. Their “master” was a duke as well with a penchant for buying slaves as children so he could break their spirits early. He hated nobility. He never worked for them if he could help it, but the pay was good, so what choice did he have? 

“I think you mean she’ll be happy with the dress  _you_ make her. You’ve been doing most of the work this time.” 

Lelouch broke the bread and chewed halfheartedly as he listened to his sister deny the fact that she was maturing into a talented young seamstress as well as cook. His mind wandered elsewhere to another young girl, and he almost missed the question altogether. 

"—again?" 

"What?” Lelouch started and nearly choked on the milk. 

“Are you thinking about it again?” she repeated, voice quiet and defeated. Her gaze skirted his and refocused on the hearth. “Are you thinking about C.C. again?" 

He blinked. “I—” 

An abrupt knock at the door roused him from his stupor, and he immediately stood. On the sixth rap, they knew at once who it was. 

"Suzaku, what are you doing back?” Lelouch asked before the door even opened all the way. 

“Suzaku!” Nunnally chirped, affecting a cheerful mask as she laced her fingers together and gestured towards the table. “You’re in time for lunch!" 

"I have good news!” Suzaku gave Lelouch a hearty clap on the back that sent him stumbling a few steps outside. 

“Oh?” Lelouch looked both ways down the street and gave a short wave to the old lady next door down. “And what is it?”

“This smells great, Nunnally.” Suzaku leaned over the fire and pulled a ladle from the wall as Lelouch prepared another place at the table.

“Tell us the good news, Suzaku!”

“They hired me at the castle.”

“What.” The cupboard clattered shut, and Lelouch set the bowl on the table with a pronounced  _chink_.

Suzaku’s smile wavered a bit but refused to disappear as he grabbed Nunnally’s bowl and filled it to the brim. Large cuts of carrots and celery bobbed at the surface and almost threatened to spill over. “It’s better than working jobs in the streets, Lelouch,” he muttered.

“You can’t be serious.”

Nunnally had gone quiet, curls falling out of her braid to obscure her eyes as she wordlessly accepted the food and returned to the table. Lelouch, on the other hand, took the remaining two bowls to the boy with a very light snarl curling his lips. “You want to work for them again? After everything?”

Suzaku shrugged and took the tableware. “Aren’t you?”

He nodded to the fabric spilling out of its paper trappings and passed a filled bowl back to Lelouch. “It’s only for a short while,” he quickly added upon seeing the seething distaste across the other’s face. “Some workers fell sick, and they’re suddenly short of hand preparing the place for the duke’s return. It’s good money, Lelouch. Better than what I can make lifting crates for merchants.”

Then, quieter, “And you know we need the money.” He glanced at Nunnally who had started picking at the bread and straightened.

Lelouch, however, didn’t seemed convinced. “Even so, we don’t need their charity. What if they recognize you?”

He followed Suzaku back to the table and set his hands on either side of it as he stared him down. But Suzaku merely sat and picked up his spoon. “It’s been eight years. Who’s going to recognize me?”

“Nunnally.” Lelouch avoided getting Nunnally involved in their disagreements as much as possible, but sometimes she was the only one who could get through his thick head. “You agree with me, don’t you?”

“Um!” Nunnally looked up, startled, but quickly bowed her head again when she met Lelouch’s eyes. Suzaku gave her a reassuring squeeze of the hand and picked up his bowl, drinking about half its contents before she spoke again. “I don’t think Suzaku is entirely wrong, though…”

Realizing he had been defeated, Lelouch collapsed in his seat.

“That is to say—! I… miss C.C. too.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and suddenly all movement stopped. There was only the fire in the background and the distant chattering of crowds on the main street.

“It was my fault,” she choked, hands curled in the fabric of her dress. “I’m sorry, Brother. I’m sorry, Suzaku. I know it was my fault. I-I know, so—”

Suzaku shushed her softly and set down his empty dish. He reached for her hand, but she had already brought them up to her eyes. It pained Lelouch to see Nunnally cry. Especially over something that she couldn’t control, and if anything, C.C. had been his fault, not hers.

“It’s not, Nunnally.” He knelt beside her, expression soft. “It’s my fault. What happened to her was my fault, so don’t cry. Don’t cry, alright?”

Nunnally shook her head stubbornly and buried her face further into her hands.

“Lelouuuuuch! Suzakuuuuuuuu!”

All three of them jumped at the familiar voice and the face pressed against their dirty window. He gave a bright smile at being acknowledged and immediately disappeared. Impatient knocking followed, and Lelouch sighed. He gave Nunnally a napkin and another hurt look before opening the door.

“We heard you the first time, Rivalz.”

“Oi, oi!” The blue-haired boy burst into the room with an arm slung around Lelouch’s thin shoulders. “Nobility’s coming to town; aren’t you guys going to take a look?”

“Today?” Suzaku asked, shielding Nunnally slightly as she wiped her eyes.

“ _Supposed_  to be tomorrow, but I guess they’re early. So? Aren’t you guys—” He stopped short at the scene before him and laughed nervously, suddenly self-conscious. He gave his neck a sheepish rub. “Sorry… Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Nunnally replied, faux cheerful again as she wheeled herself to the door and clasped Rivalz’s hand in greeting. “We haven’t seen you in a long time. You can join us if you’d like.”

Rivalz squeezed the girl’s hand lightly in return. “Thanks, Nunnally. The pub’s been busy, but I was actually about to join the crowds myself. You guys should come! They say the duke’s new wife is a real beauty.”

He waggled his eyebrows when Nunnally wasn’t looking and drew a long sigh from Lelouch.

“You’ve been working on her dress, right?” He jabbed an elbow into Lelouch’s ribs. “Isn’t it important to know how she looks then?”

“Not really,” Lelouch replied, disinterested and bored as he rubbed his side. “Noblewomen are all the same, after all.”

Rivalz pouted and made a beeline for Suzaku at the washbasin with his sleeves drawn up and dishes soaking in soapy water. Lelouch sat and sipped at the soup, now lukewarm.

“Come on, Suzaku. You have to be at least a little curious, right?”

Suzaku laughed complacently as the boy leaned on his shoulder. “Well…”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing.” Nunnally had started clearing the table, stacking her half-empty bowl on dishes already in her lap.

Rivalz brightened instantly. “Great! Nunnally wants to go, so you guys are coming too, right?”

“I mean, if that’s alright…” She looked to Lelouch almost nervously, but the other only smiled.

“Of course. If Nunnally wants to go, then we’ll go.”

* * *

The streets were packed with people, young and old, as though the arrival of nobility was anything remotely special that needed to be greeted with such fanfare.

“‘scuse us. Sorry. Excuse us.”

Suzaku leaned against the handlebars, and they crept through the crowd. Many a rumor reached their ears. That the duke was poised to take the throne over the heir apparent. That his new wife came from questionable origins. That he was as handsome as the king in his youth and she was a nymph sprung to life from stories. Lelouch had never heard anything so ridiculous.

“Hey, Lelouch. Do you really think the duke had something to do with his uncle’s death?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Lelouch replied, inattentive and unimpressed with what he’d seen so far. There had only been white carriages and even whiter horses whose flanks shown like marble in the light of the setting sun. But it was nothing awe-inspiring, nothing that deserved the attention of all these people, anyway.

“Here he comes!” someone squeaked, and a man with pale violet eyes and fair hair came into view. He was riding a white horse same as all the others, and he was dressed entirely in white too. There was something vaguely intimidating—and strangely familiar—about his stare, but Lelouch didn’t get to dwell on it for long before the same voice added, “Oh, there she is!”

Suzaku stiffened. Nunnally’s hands dropped into her lap in disbelief. She had changed some. Her hair was longer and no longer the dirty brown-green that attested to long hours in muck and filth. They were a brilliant emerald, like the gemstone, glinting faintly in the twilight.

Her horse suddenly stopped, and the procession stopped with her. Nunnally was trembling in her seat, and Lelouch barely heard Rivalz as he leaned forward and said, “Whoa, looks like the rumors were true, huh?”

The animal neighed irritably and shook its head every time she dug her heels into its sides. It didn’t seem to want to hold her anymore, so after a few more attempts, she dismounted. She hadn’t taken two steps when a hand latched onto her wrist. She looked up at the owner, surprise etched in every line of her face.

“C.C.!”

She might have changed. She might have traded rags for lace and petticoats and scars for powder that made her skin alabaster white, but those eyes were the same. Those yellow irises that always seemed as though they were looking through a person. She hadn’t changed, not really. Had she?

The shock only lasted a second. Then it was replaced with a vaguely annoyed look of indifference as she tried to shake him off.

“Sorry?” She raised an elegantly penciled eyebrow. “I don’t know whom you mean. Let go of me.”

“I won’t. Not again.” But he was forced to his knees and his hand almost broken before he even finished his sentence.

Oh, shit. He had reached out without thinking. He was practically in the middle of the procession and had attracted every onlooker’s attention. The entire congregation had gone deathly silent as one of the bulkier servants pried him from C.C.’s side and dealt him a firm blow to the face. Stars exploded across his vision, and he immediately felt blood run down his chin.

“How dare you touch Her Grace!”

“Lelouch!” Suzaku pushed through the crowd and fell to his knees beside him. He bowed his head low, so low that it nearly touched the ground. “Please forgive him! He’s been in a feverish state for days. He isn’t thinking straight. Lelouch!”

Suzaku flashed him a desperate look, and Lelouch spat blood onto the ground. “…Yes,” he agreed in a dull and unconvincing tone of voice. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive me.”

He inclined his head lightly, and more blood dripped from his nose. He caught C.C. petting her stallion’s mane from the corner of his eye, as though they weren’t there at all, and felt his hands curl into fists.

“What’s this?”

“Your Grace!” The servant immediately bowed and gestured towards them with a look of disgust. “These  _peasants_  dared lay a hand on the mistress.”

"Oh?” He walked until his shoes came into Lelouch’s limited view. “I think the solution is simple enough. Death.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Lelouch instantly felt several pairs of heavy arms on his neck and shoulders.

“No, wait!”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Schneizel.”

C.C. had returned to her saddle, and when their eyes met, Lelouch saw nothing. Not even the smallest hint of recognition.

“They’re just poor laborers. I don’t think they meant any harm. Why not let them go?”

There was a pause. Suzaku waited for the duke’s response with bated breath.

“…If that’s what Her Grace desires.”

“It is,” she answered almost flippantly. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”

She lightly kicked the horse’s flanks, and it began moving again. The procession slowly restarted, and the tension eased away. Lelouch heard Suzaku breathe a sigh of relief at his side.

“Well.” Schneizel tugged at the white gloves on his hands and turned his back to them. “It seems you’ve been spared by the duchess’s kindness. I wouldn’t expect it to happen a second time. Am I understood?”

“Yes.” Suzaku bowed his head once more. “Thank you, Your Grace!”

The servant glared at them and scoffed. It wasn’t until the train of people had nearly gone that Suzaku pulled Lelouch back onto his feet. Lelouch wiped his chin against his wrist and felt blood smear across his skin.

“Let’s go,” Suzaku muttered, avoiding the gazes of all the spectators as he hastily pushed Nunnally through the street. Lelouch followed closely behind. By the time they reached the door of their house, the crowd had thinned to a trickle, and only a few seemed aware  _they_  were the ones who caused the disturbance.

“Oi, oi!” Rivalz pushed through the remaining stragglers and skidded to a stop behind them. “What was that! What happened? Lelouch, are you alright?”

“Sorry, Rivalz. If you could come back tomorrow…” Suzaku flashed the boy an apologetic smile and shut the door without waiting for a reply.

“Hey, wait—!”

Suzaku moved to put new wood on the fire. There was some shuffling outside, but the muttering turned to retreating footsteps, and soon everything was quiet save for the occasional bird. Lanterns flickered on inside a few homes, and a soft glow bathed the street outside their window.

“I’m going to go to sleep.” Nunnally’s whisper barely registered, and by the time it did, she was already at the door to their shared bedroom.

“Nunnally. Nunnally, wait—” The door closed with a firm thud.

Suzaku poked at the fire with a stick. Soon enough, it was blazing and crackling, filling the small interior with warmth.

“What was that, Suzaku.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She didn’t recognize us.”

“Maybe it wasn’t her,” he offered and winced when Lelouch snapped, “Of course it was her. You  _saw_ her.”

"I don’t know, Lelouch. What do you want me to say?”

A tenuous silence washed over them as both boys retreated into their own thoughts. But this wasn’t a problem Lelouch could  _think_  away. For whatever reason, C.C. didn’t remember them. Or she was lying, but the latter didn’t seem very likely, not after seeing the way she looked at them. As though they really were perfect strangers.

“Let’s go to bed. There’s no point in dwelling on it now. There’s nothing we can do.”

Lelouch growled softly at that. ‘Nothing we can do.’ That was how it’d been eight years ago too. It seemed nothing had changed then.

Suzaku rubbed his face and suddenly looked much older than his outward appearance would suggest. As though exhaustion had settled into his very bones.

“Maybe it’s better that she doesn’t remember. I mean, wouldn’t you rather forget too?”

The question startled him. For once, he didn’t have a quick answer.

“I—”

“I’m going to bed. Don’t forget to clean up, alright?” Suzaku’s expression softened as he pushed the basin of cold water in his direction.

“You really scared Nunnally, you know,” he murmured and lay down on the sheets he’d set before the fire. Within a few minutes, the rise and fall of his chest had settled into a steady rhythm indicative of sleep. Lelouch almost laughed at that. Suzaku had always been a fast sleeper unlike himself.

Slowly, he made his way to the washbowl and dipped a clean rag to scrub away the flakes of dried blood. It took a good ten or fifteen minutes. He was pretty sure the brute had fractured his nose. Every single time he tried to breathe, there came a whistling sound, but his mind was unfocused, and he didn’t really care about the broken nose. 

Suzaku said he’d rather forget, but what about C.C.? He grimaced and let the cloth fall into the water stained pink. C.C. was as stubborn as he was. There was no way. Sooner or later, she’d remember. She had to.  


	40. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory soulmates AU.

C.C. walked along the train tracks, and Lelouch walked beside her, hands held in his pockets. He didn’t like watching her balance on those precarious steel rails, but he said nothing because it had long become habit. Not even he could break it at this point, so he shrugged it off as was his nature, and she continued doing as she liked as was hers. C.C., selfish witch extraordinaire. He shook his head and scoffed lightly at the thought.

“What?” she asked, and her right hand brushed his shoulder. His shot out to steady her only to be batted aside with a look that said, ‘I’m fine.’

Lelouch sighed and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. You laughed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” she insisted, eyes focused on the line her feet walked even as her gait grew a little unsteady, and she wobbled left and right.

Lelouch paused, having pulled ahead, and waited with a semi-amused look. “Alright,” he conceded after a beat of silence, “I laughed. What do  _you_  think it was about?”

C.C. scoffed. “Answering a question with a question. Really, Lelouch?”

“You never answer my questions, now do you?” he returned, unapologetic and just a little peeved as C.C. finally caught up and he began walking again albeit slower to accommodate the change in terrain, the small uphill slope that C.C. had to battle every time she insisted on walking the tracks back to town. She didn’t usually unless there was something on her mind, so Lelouch waited for whatever it was to come out. They could never hide things from one another for long; heaven knows Lelouch had tried, but C.C. always managed to wheedle it out of him sooner or later. C.C., however, clammed up the more insistent he was, so he’d gotten used to her telling him things at her own pace. But it seemed she was being stubborn today. They were more than three-fourths home, and she was still as tight-lipped as when they started.

He felt a vague stinging on his left wrist and pressed a hand against it with a small grimace. Whoever she was, she was thinking about him again. C.C. seemed to notice because their little banter came to an abrupt halt and so did she.

“Lelouch.”

“Hm?” Lelouch asked as he walked ahead once more, shuffling aside dead leaves and the occasional branch.

“This is enough.”

Lelouch stopped and threw a look over his shoulder that was a cross between bemusement and slight agitation. “What are you talking—”

“You’ve done more than enough.” Green hair swayed in the breeze and occasionally obscured her face, but it didn’t matter because Lelouch could never read her emotions anyway. Even now, she was calm and unaffected though if he looked closely, he thought there was something foreign in her eyes. Before he could mull on it, she spoke up again, voice a little softer and quieter.

“She’ll be here soon. Shirley. You should be with your soulmate, you know, so.”

She pivoted so her back faced him and took a deep breath.

“I release you from our contract. You’re free to do as you like. Congratulations, and good bye.”

She started retracing the way they came, still balancing precariously, and Lelouch made a face. Displeasure and confusion were etched in every line of his frown as he hastened to catch up.

“What are you going on about now?” he asked, falling into step alongside her and trying to catch her eyes that were hidden behind a curtain of hair. The purple scarf he’d given her flapped in the wind, and he suddenly remembered he said he’d buy her a new Cheese-kun one to replace the other he’d lost. How was he supposed to do that if she ended their contract here? He didn’t get to ask, though, before her head snapped up, and those bright eyes met his again, tinged with that same unknown emotion of a few moments ago.

“If you keep frowning, your face will stick like that,” she chided much to his chagrin, and Lelouch only tsked as he shot back, “Answer me, C.C.”

She shrugged and faced forward once more. “I mean what I said. You’ve done enough. You’ve fulfilled your end of the contract. We’re done.”

“‘Done?’” Lelouch repeated, a little incredulous as C.C. hopped off and poked a finger against his wrist, just above the name inscribed in it like a perfectly penned tattoo. Except it wasn’t. It was the birthmark they were all born with, everyone except C.C. it seemed. Lelouch’s eyes traveled to her own bare wrists as she laced her hands behind her back. He distantly wondered how many times she’d been rejected to be rejecting him like this. Her tone was so casual and flippant that he might have thought she didn’t care at all if not for the slight twitch in her hand or that look in her eye he still couldn’t describe.

“If you’re a witch, then I’ll become a warlock.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and she stopped.

“Didn’t I say that once?”

“Hmmm.” C.C.’s little grin always made his heart skip beats, muted as it was, and she stepped back onto the tracks, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with a flick of the wrist. “But this is different, Lelouch. This is your soulmate, a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon, and she’ll be here soon. Along these very train tracks, in fact.”

She gestured to the side vaguely. ”She’ll make you infinitely happier than I ever could.”

Lelouch caught her just as she was about to fall and hugged her to his chest. He took in the faint smell of burnt cheese and fabric softener and couldn’t imagine waking to anything else.

“It doesn’t matter if we’re ostracized for not being soulmates. We have a contract, and I—”

“Is that all? A contractual relationship, hm?” she hummed, burying her head in his cardigan with closed eyes and a sleepy look.

“And I-I alsoloveyoubut—” His words ran into each other in his haste to get them out and move on, but C.C. interrupted a second time, eyebrow quirked in a disbelieving arch.

“Don’t confess so lightly, Lelouch. This isn’t the first time I’ve been confessed to, but they all leave eventually. Because they find their soulmate whom they love better.”

She laughed to mask the pain, the little fractures in her stoicism that he could just see if he looked hard enough.

“You’re forgetting something—I’m not them, and it doesn’t matter what they did. My feelings aren’t going to change.”

“Mmmm, stubborn boy.”

He swept her into his arms, and she let out a small sound of surprise. “Says the hypocrite.”

He started walking again, and there was no fidgeting or protesting much to his surprise. Only the autumn wind and the crunching of brushwood.

“You have to take responsibility for your actions, you know,” she finally breathed, head curled under his chin, and she must have heard the faster heartbeat even if she couldn’t see the faint blush.

She always had a way of making things sound so— _wrong_. Lelouch couldn’t help but huff at that, his indignation showing despite his best efforts.

“Of course,” he continued—best way to overcome her jokes were to ignore them, he’d learned—and kept walking even as the princess carry began straining his arms.

Her fingers played with one of his undone buttons, and a growing smirk overtook her expression.

“So, is that a marriage proposal after all?”

“Shut up.”


	41. Akame ga Kill I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of akame ga kill. based on the anime _akame ga kill!_

“General.”

Mao fell on one knee and prostrated himself so far his forehead nearly touched the ground. C.C. tsked to herself. Mao was the most enthusiastic of the Jaegers, and there was no doubt his sanity was… questionable at best. But C.C. had handpicked him. Unfortunate as it was, he’d found a soft spot in her heart, or what she had left of it.

“You can leave us now, Mao.”

C.C. saw a flicker of disappointment behind his visor, his teigu, when he raised his head.

“General, I think we can have plenty of fun  _together_  if we take turns questioning this Black Knights scum.”

Excitement made his voice higher pitched than usual, and C.C. flinched inwardly. She’d done this to him, so she smiled very faux sweetly as she leaned against her knees, and her cap shifted over her bangs. Her fingertips grazed the whip at her side.

"Mao, this is not up for discussion.”

With that one phrase, the temperature dropped in the room, and color drained from the boy’s face. His smile, however, remained the same, unwavering and loyal.

“Anything for you, General,” he cooed and was gone.

The moment the doors closed, C.C. rose from her seat. She’d grown tepid in her years of service to the Empire. She’d believed in Charles and Marianne’s vision once, but now she moved out of obligation. Now the ice had finally penetrated her through and through, and she wasn’t sure what to do anymore other than to keep going. Keep killing. Keep torturing. Keep working towards the Prime Minister’s goals, and try to enjoy herself in the process. So the smile she donned once she reached the insurgent was fake at best.

Fake tears could harm others, but fake smiles only harmed oneself, so she smiled and reached for the mask.

“Let’s see the face of the Black Knigh—”

The disguise slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. Even the whip in her hand went slack. This was—

Lelouch shook free of his restraints easily and pulled the cloth away from his mouth. Drops of blood and sweat mingled and fell freely from the tips of his familiar dark hair, but it was his eyes that confirmed it. That and his smirk.

“C.C.,” he acknowledged, smug as ever. “Or should I say  _General_?”

C.C. recovered from her shock and straightened, arms crossed under her chest as she returned pomp with pomp and said, “Well done, Lelouch. I must say, I wasn’t expecting the Minister’s son.”

Lelouch stood with a hoarse laugh and rubbed the raw ringlets around his wrists. C.C. regarded the broken chains and added, “Suzaku?”

"Who else?”

She’d heard enough. C.C. turned on her heel. “Leave before I kill you, Lelouch.”

Ice fell from the tips of her fingers and sharpened into stakes by the time they reached the ground, but Lelouch hadn’t budged.

“C.C., you’re smart enough to figure it out. Do you really think I’ll leave after going through the trouble to meet you?”

“We would’ve met eventually in the field.”

“Ah, but then we wouldn’t have been able to have this conversation, would we? You would have killed me.”

The kindness was still there. It was in his voice overlaid with years of blood and dead companions, but it was still there. The tenderness that had always marked Lelouch as  _weak_.

“What do you want, Lelouch.”

He walked up the few steps to her chair and extended his hand. She looked at it skeptically. His teigu was useless at this distance, and it had never worked on her anyways. Her teigu, however. She could’ve skewered him on the spot.

“I have another contract for you.”

An easy smile inadvertently slipped out. “If I remember correctly, you still haven’t fulfilled the last one.”

There was a small “hmph” as if to say she hadn’t changed at all, that not even a Danger Beast’s blood could really change the witch he’d once known.

“That’s what I’m here for. That and this.”

He proffered his hand yet again.

“Will you help me, General?”

For some reason, it didn’t take long. It didn’t take long at all for her palm to press against his, for their hands to meet like they had the first time. The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop. So, it was this easy to betray the Empire. Chances were high that she’d regret it, but for now, Lelouch was warm, and she was tired of being the Capital’s Ice Queen.

“I accept your contract.”


	42. Akame ga Kill II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of akame ga kill.

It was so easy to fall back in line with him, not in front or behind but next to as they walked into the encampment, C.C. having discarded her general’s uniform for something a little closer to his. Dark colors, dark aesthetic. It was always either black or white with him. And a little added flare, of course, as she traced the lines of purple with her eyes. Purple  _had_  always been his favorite color; some things never changed. 

The gasps were audible then the suffocating silence as C.C. waited to be introduced and played with the ends of her hair in the meantime. 

Had word not yet travelled so far? Maybe she had overestimated the Black Knights. Best not to defame the leader in front of his subordinates. She’d mock him in the private confines of their room, as she always had, though by the looks of it they wouldn’t need to share a room or a bed like they used to. As her eyes scanned the place, they suddenly caught sight of a very familiar clump of hair, short blue tied back in a braid—“Akito.” She called out to him before he could leave.

A woman—girl, really—came thundering up to their leader around the same time. Her short red hair added to the ferocity, matched only by the fury in her blue eyes, and it seemed she might have grabbed Zero by the collar if C.C. hadn’t interrupted. Except her words weren’t directed at Zero or at her. They were directed at the soldier who’d defected along with their other general. (Quite the romantic gesture if you asked her.)

“How  _is_  Malkal doing?” she asked, and she might have seen the boy stiffen or at the very least narrow his eyes.

Zero’s mask shifted in her direction. She knew what look Lelouch must have been giving her, and she didn’t care. She was simply curious though the question didn’t seem to be well received. Most of his underlings were poised to attack. Her fingers lightly brushed the tattoo on her chest, evidence of the teigu she carried in her body. It was a casual gesture, but it was just as suspect apparently as Akito drew his sword and the red head crouched down on all fours, red mane bright and wild upon the instantaneous activation of her teigu. This really was a group of assassins, C.C. mused. If they wanted a fight, C.C. would give them one, but that wasn’t what Lelouch wanted.

He stepped in front of her, cloak drawn to shield, and the protective gesture almost made her heart flutter. He didn’t get a chance to say anything though before another voice chimed in, soft and familiar.

"C.C.!”

She ran up to greet her, and that surprised C.C. most of all—that she ran. Small hands clasped her own.

“It’s been too long.” There were tears in those indigo eyes so like her brother’s. For once, C.C. balked at words and only found herself grasping the other’s fingers loosely in return.

No one stirred. There was a tense silence as they tried to grapple with the fact that the youngest and sweetest among them had immediately accepted a stone cold killer into their ranks. The same woman who had already put so many of their comrades in the ground. But Nunnally seemed oblivious at the moment, or she simply didn’t care. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the sleeve of her dress.

C.C. threw a sidelong glance in Lelouch’s direction. Now  _this_  she really hadn’t been expecting, that he’d allow his sister to join his little organization, his rebellion painting the world just as red as the Empire was. Though she supposed it was the only way to protect the girl lest she fall back under the Minister’s influence not unlike Euphemia and Suzaku (and to some extent, herself). She tsked lightly under her breath so the girl wouldn’t notice. Lelouch had grown ever softer in her absence. She vaguely wondered if Nunnally knew the man behind the mask, or was she just as clueless as everyone else here? But she pushed the questions aside for the moment. They’d have plenty of time to play catch up shortly.

“It’s been so long,” she repeated, smiling all the while. “I’m sorry Brother couldn’t be here to join us, but… for now, I am afraid you will just have to make do with me.”

Ah. So she didn’t know. C.C. wet her lips and found the presence of mind to reply. “I am glad to see you’re well, Nunnally. And you can walk.”

“Ah!” Nunnally stepped back and gave a quick little twirl. “Miss Chawla modified my limbs! I can walk now and more!”

There was a mewling at her feet. She stumbled and would have fallen if not for C.C.’s steadying hand, but the gesture once again raised alarms, and the red head moved between the two, fierce and unforgiving. She grabbed Nunnally by the shoulders, pulling her away and out of reach.

“Don’t touch her, you bitch!”

“Miss Kouzuki!”

“No, Nunnally. Lelouch entrusted me with your safety, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. I don’t care if you knew this woman before. She’s not an ally.”

Her gaze fixed on the man at her side. Nunnally picked up the cat that had interrupted the moment and hugged it to her chest. C.C. noted it was the same biological teigu that had disappeared from their stores less than a month ago. She cast another dubious glance in Lelouch’s direction. What was he planning exactly?

Lelouch’s tenor finally broke the stalemate, deep and authoritative. It reverberated off the thick walls and immediately commanded all attention. C.C. was a little impressed. Just a little, however.

“I called you all here to introduce the newest member of the Revolutionary Army. She’ll be working under the Black Knights for the time being. Many of you already know her. In light of recent casualties—”

“Yeah, caused by her!” someone barked only to be instantly hushed by the tall, mild-mannered fellow at his side.

Lelouch continued, unfazed. “In light of recent casualties, the Black Knights need whatever help they can get. Especially during this time as the Revolutionary Army prepares itself. This decision is not up for discussion. That is all.”

Lelouch turned to leave. C.C. lingered and follow suit, brushing a hand against Nunnally’s shoulder as she did so. It was as reassuring a squeeze as she could give.

“Zero, wait!” Kallen pushed past the people blocking her path and stood before him again, angry and trembling.

“We can’t accept this,” she finally managed, tone as irate and yet respectful as she could be. “She’s slaughtered too many of us. Not just her, her men, and you’re just asking us to—to forget? Not to mention, what if she’s here on the Empire’s order? Have you considered the possibility of her being a spy?”

“Please.” All eyes were on the ex-general now at the first word she’d spoken at large since entering the room. C.C. tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and continued in the same carefree tone of voice. She didn’t need to answer to these people, but if it would make this ordeal end sooner then she’d speak. “Why waste effort on something like spying when I could kill everyone in this room right now?”

“Was that a threat, you—!”

Lelouch held out a gloved hand, and the words stopped halfway. C.C. didn’t really need help, but she could still appreciate it.

“Kallen, you’re right. I have considered these things, but for reasons I am not at liberty to discuss, I have come to the conclusion she’ll be more of an asset than a threat. Whatever she’s done is in the past and has no bearing on the present. I am not asking you to forgive or forget, merely co-exist. Or is that too much to ask even for the sake of the rebellion?”

His words hung heavy in the air. Was he going to leave on that question? She wouldn’t be surprised. He always had such a penchant for dramatics, after all, and she was just a little self-satisfied to see she was right. He swept out of the room, and she walked alongside as he did so. There was no sound of footsteps behind them, only the clicking of her heels and tapping of his shoes against stone.

He sighed when they were far away, in one of many hallways lined with bedrooms, but it seemed this one was particularly secluded.

“Well done,” she finally said.

“Are you mocking me, witch?” he growled in return, his voice just a soft tremor in the vast emptiness relative to the cramped space they’d just left, the people breathing down her neck for answers she didn’t have and wouldn’t give even if she did.

“Not at all,” C.C. purred, pulling her estranged partner close enough to kiss upon the removal of his mask. They hadn’t yet entered his quarters. This was a little dangerous, but it seemed their proximity had short-circuited his ability to think properly.

He frowned, very Lelouch-like, as her lips ghosted across his. “I  _sincerely_  mean it. Well done. You’ve just made them accept their worst enemy.”

Lelouch leaned into the door, pushed by C.C.’s weight, and it gave way easily into the dark interior. She shut it behind them with her heel, and he allowed her to guide him to the bed backwards. He was far more accommodating than she remembered. Had he finally gained some experience in the interim? The thought was just barely amusing as they fell into the mattress though Lelouch more collapsed onto it. He’d had a long day; she wasn’t surprised. She was more surprised his stamina had carried him thus far, or had he changed in other respects as well? Her fingers skimmed his stomach only to be arrested by a hand on her wrist.

“I’m still in my suit.”

“That can be changed,” she murmured, breathing in his familiar scent. It was a little tainted by blood but so was she. They were the same in the end after all.

“If you’re a witch, then I’ll become a warlock, right?” he breathed, as if reading her mind though he was half asleep already and couldn’t even resist the curling of her arms around his waist.

“Hmmm,” she murmured in reply, neither an agreement or disagreement, just acknowledgement and a little nostalgia. She waited until his breath was completely steady before shrugging out of her uniform and pulling the blanket over them both. She returned to her original position and wondered at the toy she’d given up so many years ago. Maybe he still kept it? It was a vain hope, but she resolved to ask him come morning anyway. For the time being, she pulled him closer.

“That’s right.” She’d already broken her promise once; she’d left him after all. But he still had the potential to succeed where Charles and Marianne were failing. He was still alive. She felt the Danger Beast licking at her ear, whispering at her to  _kill, kill, kill_ , but she smothered the urges for now. Maybe she’d go insane before she ever saw the completion of their original contract. Whatever the case, she pressed an ear to his heartbeat and fancied she could hear her own.

“That’s right,” she repeated. “And I’ll stay with you to the end.”


	43. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the _fate series_. c.c. is a caster servant, and lelouch is her master.

Lelouch’s fist hit the side of the door, and it swung shut with a bang. He hadn’t expected this, and he didn’t want to believe it. There was still the possibility it  _wasn’t_  him, but the chances it was had just skyrocketed.

“Caster.”

“It’s C.C.”

Lelouch’s gaze flicked up, tinged with anger and annoyance. She was in casual dress now, a white—straitjacket? That hugged her form tightly and accentuated all her curves. She lay on his bed, hair splayed out in a semicircle, but then she turned, and those golden eyes were trained on his. Piercing. Judging. As though she knew exactly what turmoil he was going through.

In the excitement, he’d completely forgotten to ask her name.

“C.C.?” he repeated and wiped the dried blood from his temple.

“That’s what I said,” she sighed and propped herself up on an elbow. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tilted her head to the side. “Lelouch vi Britannia.”

Lelouch jolted at the surname he hadn’t used in almost 10 years. He hadn’t introduced himself, and he most certainly wouldn’t have used  _that_  name. He raised his hand to stare at the bird like sigil imprinted in his skin and frowned. There were only two command spells remaining. Had he—?

“You had.” She sat up then, legs dangling from the side of the bed as she watched him, unblinking and just slightly unnerving in her calm.

He shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts in vain.

“How did you know my name,” he finally managed, leaning against the door lest he collapse altogether.

No answer, so he tried a different question.

“What is your real name?”

No answer. Lelouch frowned. “You’re not going to tell your Master your real name? I’ll be at a disadvantage in battle—”

“Should the need arise, I will tell you.”

She hopped off the bed now and padded to the window with her hands laced behind her back. It was hard to believe she was only a spirit. He could even smell the perfume in her hair.

“So, I’ve been summoned here again,” she murmured, reaching up to twirl a strand of green hair between forefinger and thumb. “I assume Pizza Hut is still a thing?”

“When did I use a command seal?”

She didn’t seem to take kindly to his ignoring her question, but he didn’t care. She’d already ignored enough of his. For a moment, it seemed she wouldn’t answer this one either, but then she sighed and her shoulders dropped.

“Be grateful you had. Else you’d be dead before this war even started. Though, that might have been more beneficial for me.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lelouch growled, stumbling to his desk and grabbing a handful of tissues to dab at the wound in his head. Matted hair got in the way, and he winced at the shocks of pain and slowly building migraine. He didn’t have enough mana to speed along the healing process; the most he could do now was lie down and sleep.

He waited for an explanation but none came. Only silence and the shifting of buckles as she moved from the window and whispered, barely audible, “That’s not possible.”

“What,” Lelouch immediately shot, glancing behind him with none too amused an expression. He didn’t think Servants could be this…  _difficult_ , but he also hadn’t been expecting Caster. Archer maybe or Saber in the best case scenario. Caster had no offensive capabilities (like himself, he noted humorlessly), but he felt strangely comfortable with the girl. Something told him they were the same.

“Berserker has appeared.”

“Impossible.” Her eyes narrowed at the quick dismissal.

“Berserker should belong to Jeremiah Gottwald. His family has consistently summoned Berserker for the past five Grail Wars, and at the moment, he’s—”

“I see you’ve done your research, but war is more than just books and planning. Berserker has appeared, and I am going to meet him.”

In the blink of an eye, her straitjacket changed back into the white robe he greeted her in.

“Are you insane?” Lelouch growled and grabbed the sleeve of her arm just as she raised her hood. Yellow eyes stared back defiantly. “I still haven’t recovered—”

“You,” she interrupted with a hand pressed against his chest. “Will stay here.”

Absurd. This contract wasn’t going to work out after all. The Master staying behind? But she took a step forward before he could retaliate and then another and then another until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

“What—!”

He fell, and she followed, straddling his hips with her face precariously close to his and her fingers kneading into the fabric of his uniform. One button came undone. Then two. Her eyes narrowed like a cat’s, and if he didn’t know better, he would have said she was enjoying this.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Lelouch sputtered, a little horrified and indignant as he wrenched one wrist away and met her blank stare with another just as frigid. Though there might have been a bit of a blush tinging his ears and a bit of a stutter to his words. If she picked up on them, she didn’t say anything, merely sat back and loosened her hold on his waist.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and watched her dismount entirely.

“A grown boy like you can undress himself, can’t you?”

“I said I won’t allow you to leave, Caster.”

“C.C.,” she corrected again and threw another look over her shoulder as she swished to the door. The hem of her gown just trailed the floor. “Will you use another command spell to stop me?”

Lelouch’s hand formed a tight fist, and he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t afford to lose any more especially if  _this_  was how their relationship was going to be.

“Besides,” she continued airily. “We need the intelligence, and you’ll only slow me down. Stay here and provide mana from afar. That’s the most beneficial route for us both, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You said you’ve been summoned here previously,” Lelouch cut in before she could disappear. “Was it by my mother?”

That amused her, it seemed, because he saw the corner of her lips flick up.

“You’re an interesting boy.”

And then she was gone. Lelouch picked himself off the bed at once and plodded to his laptop despite the pounding in his head.

If Suzaku really was the Master of Saber then—

He shook free of such lingering thoughts and focused his remaining energy on the present. One hand clutched the makeshift bandage on his head as the other tapped away. Idiot. There was no way she could go up against Berserker alone, and given his state, he doubted she’d be able to siphon mana off him. Meaning she was going to meet a Servant with class A strength, endurance and agility completely on her own. And they didn’t even know who the Master was.

He growled. It was suicidal. He pulled up the map of the area and watched the bit of mana he infused on her travel northwest. So she was heading for Tokyo Tower.

“Idiot,” he hissed and grabbed the bloodied jacket off the bed. There was no point in him living if she died. 


	44. Loveless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the _loveless_ animanga.

She doesn’t have her tail and ears. She’s technically an  _adult_ , but she’s attending school with  _them_ , and the whispers start immediately before the teacher’s even done introducing her. She doesn’t seem to notice. Either that, or she doesn’t care because it would be  _hard_  not to notice. The excited swishing of tails and twitching of ears as Rivalz smirks to Milly and Milly leans to Shirley and Shirley whispers to Kallen and Kallen, ever unimpressed, merely shrugs.

Lelouch doesn’t pay much attention. He’s never quite cared about  _adulthood_ , not how it’s conventionally defined anyways, so he merely glances at her once before returning to the text.

“Oi, Lelouch. She’s looking at you.”

Suzaku’s tail swishes in his face and makes his nose crinkle with the amount of  _fur_  the boy sheds on a daily basis. The tip snaps against his back, and he jolts.

“Suzaku—”

The boy nods towards the front of the room, and suddenly Lelouch realizes he’s right. The new girl is staring straight at him, yellow eyes locked like a cat on a mouse. Except Lelouch has never been very fond of being regarded as prey, so he merely sniffs and turns his nose up. Suzaku seems amused by his reaction and so does—C.C., was it?

Lelouch snorts lightly at the name, if it could even be called that. He’s not sure what about her has immediately earned his disfavor, but it’s something, and it’s something a little more intangible than the state of her physical appearance. But he claps lightly when the teacher asks them to welcome her, and he stands on command when his name is called after Milly’s so C.C. can meet the student council Vice President and know where to sit.

She slides into the empty seat beside him as easily as though she’s known him her entire life. The distance, or lack thereof, is just a little uncomfortable, but he gives her his signature polite smile regardless until, that is, her hand reaches over and—

“Cute.” She flicks one of his ears, and they immediately flatten back against his head.

“Hey!”

“It’s common courtesy to introduce yourself personally. I’m C.C., and you are?” Her expression doesn’t change; her face says she’s bored but her eyes tell a different story. Her eyes say she’s toying with him, and Lelouch decides he most definitely does not like this girl.

The moment passes, and the raised hair on his tail go down again. He sighs.

“It’s Lelouch. Lelouch Lamperouge.”

“Cute,” she repeats and faces forward. “Please take care of me, then, Vice President.”

For some reason, the words sound mocking coming from her, and they are in a sense because it’s her lips and the shiver of her thighs that’ll eventually be his undoing, that’ll eventually have him showing up at school like herself - denuded and “grown-up” (and endlessly teased). But Lelouch doesn’t know that yet. He doesn’t know the hand reaching up to tuck hair behind her ear will be the same to tease his tail for the last time. So he merely offers a thin smile and says, “Of course.”


	45. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> suzaku witnesses a tender moment between witch & warlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with [art accompaniment](http://love-is-justice.tumblr.com/post/103970866004/ha-haaahaahaaa-haaaa-grey-witch) thanks to [@shiitsuu](http://shiitsuu.tumblr.com/) ❤

Suzaku sulked to the crunching of ice underfoot. His boots made sooty indents where the wet ground had turned white snow to grey-brown slush, and he might have minded at another time. After all, these had been gifts from Euphie, but now he simply trudged on, only half aware of his surroundings, just enough that he could still track them through the sparse crowd. There’d only been a drizzle of snow today that coated the city like a fine dust. Otherwise the visibility was high, and the grey sky lighter than it had been in weeks.

But the same, however, couldn’t be said for Suzaku’s mood. He breathed in cold air and breathed out frustration in hot little puffs. His eyes refocused on her back as they walked.  _Their_  backs. He’d been careful. The distance was considerable, and the muted scenery provided a natural cover for his stalking. Not that he  _was_  doing that—stalking. He was just. Well.

Nunnally had been so convinced. She’d been convinced before, yes, and she’d been wrong, but this time even Kallen seemed to have registered a change between them, and  _that_  was alarming. He just couldn’t imagine that they’d pursue a real relationship, not after so long, but there was a queasiness in this stomach that refused to settle. C.C. and Lelouch. Lelouch and C.C.—their names didn’t  _fit_ together.

Suzaku shivered. He’d been following them for some time. When they’d left the restaurant, neither seemed very happy. Lelouch’s wallet was lighter some five or six pizzas, and C.C., well. He never knew what to make of her. How many blocks had it been? 3? 4? It felt longer in this weather. Were they going to walk home? He was sure they’d take a taxi, given the time, but—

Suzaku looked at the bright luminescent screen of his phone and sighed. Maybe following them out the restaurant on a whim hadn’t been such a smart idea. But it seemed there had been a disagreement, and he never thought he’d seen Lelouch look so… personally insulted by something. He hadn’t even overheard their talk, only saw the other’s gestures, facial expressions, body language. Lelouch gave away a lot in his stances. C.C. did too, on occasion. But now they’d both gone silent. For a split second, he wondered whether he should make his presence known and join them rather than continue to (awkwardly) follow at a distance. He wouldn’t get answers, but it didn’t seem he was going to get answers anyway.

Just as the thought occurred, however, they stopped. Lelouch first. C.C. pulled ahead a few steps before stopping too, but by then she was between lamp posts and swathed in darkness. He could only make out her silhouette. At the sudden change of pace, Suzaku quickly dodged behind the nearest object which, unfortunately, was only as inconspicuous as a car. He desperately hoped no one would chance upon him. He’d have no explanation then, but thankfully, the couple had turned off the main road, and this side street was empty. No cars except parked ones, and no people save for them.

When C.C. had returned to Lelouch’s side, and the soft artificial light alerted him she was looking elsewhere, Suzaku darted across the very small and cramped road. The other side offered little protection save for an alleyway that looked like it could barely shelter a bike, much less a 5’9” person, but Suzaku crammed into it anyway. Some lighted signs from an adjacent bar or other flashed in his face every few seconds and made him nervous.

They could probably see him very clearly from there if they cared to look. Neither cared to, though. They both seemed preoccupied, Lelouch in shuffling snow at his feet and C.C. in twirling that infernal umbrella. Only C.C. had brought one, and she didn’t even bother extending it in Lelouch’s direction. It was a large, ugly Pizza Hut promotional. The snow had restarted, so bits of it clung to the familiar yellow-orange nylon of C.C.’s favorite fictional pet. Umbrella Cheese-kun stared back at him when she tilted the canopy behind her and caught snowflakes on her eyelashes. Around the same time, Lelouch pulled back the hood of his jacket and turned. He said something to C.C., too low for Suzaku to make out, and the latter grinned in response. Then nothing else.

What was this? A romantic walk? A winter stroll? He couldn’t quite make out the purpose which made him that much more antsy. At some point in their childhood, he’d become capable of reading most, if not all, of Lelouch’s actions perfectly. The petulance when he hid food or stuffed animals or anything that was the slightest bit embarrassing. Or how silent and moody he became when upset. Now, it was quite different. Lelouch had changed, but he supposed he had too. Still. He crinkled his nose when a particularly strong gust of wind blew through and nearly missed the start of their conversation.

“C.C., the snow is beautiful, isn’t it?” He said it in such a way that made the question seem loaded. Suzaku frowned and wiped his red nose on the back of his glove.

A long pause. Then, “Yes. It is.”

It was a tired admission. Suzaku didn’t understand. (But Lelouch did, Lelouch who had tried to convince C.C. to love herself for so long that even this was victory enough for now, no matter how small.)  

His soft smile made even Suzaku’s chest clench. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his friend look at anyone quite like that, not even Nunnally. This was an altogether different expression, and suddenly, he didn’t think he really needed verbal confirmation to his unvoiced question. But he stayed anyways. (Because if there was one thing Suzaku was, it was stubborn. Just like Lelouch.)

Lelouch had turned away again, and C.C. hadn’t seemed to have paid him much attention. She continued twirling her umbrella, expression a little more taut than it had been. 

“Winter,” he said suddenly.

C.C.’s head snapped forward as though she understood exactly what he meant even though there’d only been one word followed by a lengthy pause that Suzaku doubted would ever end. Just as the quiet night hush and wintered senses threatened to cast doubt over whether he’d spoken at all, his lips parted a second time. Even C.C. seemed anticipatory, but the pause had smoothed over any leaked emotion. Now there was only a slight turn of the head and a very characteristic and elegant arch of her brow.

Another pause. More anxiety coiled in the balls of Suzaku’s feet. He felt ready for a marathon sprint, ready to dash out and throttle Lelouch for his damned timing because it was  _cold_ , and if this wasn’t going where he thought it might possibly, allegedly, go then—

“On my birthday.”

A short “ha!” erupted from C.C., and finally her face turned enough that Suzaku caught the glint in her eye. (It was a very warm, happy glint, he thought.)

“Making ‘us’ all about ‘you,’ are we?”

“Not really.”

This time, the reply was automatic as though Lelouch had been expecting exactly that response. But there was no superior smirk on him now, no pride in having prepared a counter remark beforehand. The tired lines Suzaku had noted over the past few months were very stark in the tenuous light of the flickering street lamp. Only C.C. and Lelouch were illuminated, barely, and from this distance, he could see C.C. much better than he could Lelouch. He’d known his friend long enough, however, that he could fill in the spaces where his eyes couldn’t reach, the slight smile and the slow melancholy. Lelouch was always so dramatic. But maybe, for once, that wasn’t his intention here.

“I’ve never been fond of my birthday,” he added and turned away again so his head was tilted up slightly and more snow dusted the crown of his head. The strands of short, dark hair were already a little wet and damp from being in this weather so long, and the tips of Suzaku’s fingers had formed frostbite. Regardless, he didn’t leave. He wouldn’t until they did. Or until, at the very least, he had confirmed his suspicions without a single remaining shred of doubt.

“I see.”

That was it. No teasing. No follow up questions. No “Oh?” or “And why not?” She’d said “I see” as though she’d known all along even though she couldn’t have; her previous statement had betrayed that she couldn’t have. Suzaku frowned for the second time that night and wedged his hands under his armpits for the extra warmth. They made no sense whatsoever, C.C. most of all.

More silence followed, but it was a little heavier this time or maybe it was only the storm that had intensified. Sudden biting gusts numbed the boy to his bones. He stomped his feet very cautiously to warm his frozen toes and made to leave. Maybe he was wrong. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn’t what he thought. 

“Well, I suppose turning a day we both dislike into something else might not be such a bad sentiment.”

Suzaku stopped, and his eyes narrowed as he warily listened. C.C.’s finger had curled around the single strand of hair peeking out from under her winter hood. She still looked completely unaffected, utterly absorbed in the way light glinted off spring green, but there was the slightest upturn of the corner of her lips, the smallest crinkle of her eyes, the barest inflection in her voice.

“I suppose a winter wedding would work just as well.”

“Hmph.” A smirk. A throw of the head towards his companion. A mutual agreement in the beat of silence that followed. They’d finally come to a compromise.

“How do you think your friends will react?” C.C. asked and suddenly Suzaku got the pervading feeling she knew he was there and had known all along. 

“I don’t know,” Lelouch sighed, honest, as he pocketed his gloved hands and leaned further against the icy railing. A small frown followed.

“Do you think Suzaku—?”

"Yes.”

Lelouch stopped. By the time Suzaku filled in the rest of their mental conversation, Lelouch had turned and made eye contact. The boy’s lip twitched, and he waved very slowly, very weakly, and very stiffly in his friend’s semi-hidden direction. He looked so faint, a gentle breeze could’ve have knocked him over.

Shock and horror met chagrin and sudden self-consciousness. Suzaku blinked and missed the start of a very faint blush.

They suddenly didn’t have words for one another. Because Suzaku hadn’t even considered marriage. He’d just wanted to confirm dating. And Lelouch had thought the whole implication that they were being followed had been one of C.C.’s poorly executed jokes.

“Well,” C.C. purred with all the self-satisfaction of a preening house cat. “One less person to tell.”


	46. Zero Requiem I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of zero requiem. the unholy trinity copes with their decisions.

“Suzaku, haven’t you ever wanted to protect someone?" she asked, face turned away, arms splayed against the covers with one leg raised and one hanging off the edge of the bed. She said it so lightly, so noncommittally, that he wondered whether she really wanted to know or whether she was just trying to fill the silence that stretched like a gulf between them. She’d once said they were alike, but their differences spanned centuries. Since he’d shot her and she’d instantly recovered, he’d never been more aware of the fact. 

She was immortal. 

She was a witch.

And she wasn’t human.

But for some reason or other, at her provocation, his mind immediately jumped to Lelouch. (He thought of Euphemia too, but his heart was too heavy a burden nowadays to keep her in his thoughts any longer than he dared.) He thought of Lelouch who’d always seemed so affected by everything, ever since he was little. When he carried Nunnally because wheelchairs didn’t work over rough terrain. When Suzaku carried Nunnally for much the same reason, and Lelouch rushed through rain to deliver an umbrella. When he stood, trembling, all but ten years old and declared war on his homeland. Suzaku had known it then, and he knew it now—Lelouch was too kind. Far kinder than he could ever be. 

As he pulled himself from his thoughts, and green eyes landed on green hair, he wondered. Was she thinking about Lelouch too?

"I want to protect him.”

In these close quarters, in these quickly fading hours of daylight that separated Suzaku from fitful sleep and recurring nightmares, there was no reason to lie. Especially between them and especially about Lelouch.

“I want to protect him, but if he insists…”

She left the sentence unfinished because they both knew. If Lelouch insisted, then there was nothing either of them could do but support him, was there?

“I’ll kill him, and you’ll make sure I do.”

He rose from his seat and laid a hand against the door handle.

“And we’ll both die a little too, hm.”

She was wrong, but he didn’t bother correcting her. He merely left the room, left the girl to herself as she lounged on the Emperor’s bed. 

The door shut with unnerving finality, and Suzaku let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Suzaku Kururugi had died a long time ago.


	47. Zero Requiem II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of zero requiem.

It was going to be their last morning together, Suzaku mused as he stood by the window overlooking the courtyard and waited for C.C. and Lelouch. The sun hadn’t yet crested the horizon; the world was still dark and quiet, but for them, the day had already started. The final preparations were nearly finished, and they had half an hour at most to squeeze breakfast. It’d be Lelouch’s last, and despite everything that’d come to pass between them, the notion elicited a twinge of pain in his chest.  
  
The minutes eked by, and Suzaku finally turned to face the staircase, his impatience getting the better of him. He wondered what she was saying to him in these last few moments. They still shared a bedroom as far as he knew. It must have become habit.

Did she mean to have him all to herself in the end, he wondered. Not that he needed to see Lelouch a second time. They’d said all there was to say to one another, and yet. His hand curled into a fist at his side, and he exhaled slowly.

Just as he was about to look for them, footsteps sounded on marble, and he stopped. Then came the quiet voices, Lelouch’s deep tenor and C.C.’s airy laugh. They almost sounded natural.

When they finally appeared, he was visibly taken aback, more so by C.C. than Lelouch. He hadn’t thought C.C. would wear it though she’d been wearing it the past few days, so he didn’t know why he’d think otherwise. Perhaps the contrast was just particularly striking today when he’d spent the last few weeks in a haze. Suddenly, she was very much the Empress to Lelouch’s Emperor, and he chuckled wryly thinking about it. C.C. and Lelouch, 99th Emperor and Empress of Britannia. It was laughable. (Though he felt a strange ache at the same time right where his heart should have been.)

He didn’t remember the exact words that were exchanged in that brief moment. Though there were tender glances and a little laugh. A shake of the head when C.C. said that she’d only donned this to see him off, and Lelouch returned that she wasn’t going back to that straitjacket, was she? A (sad?) knowing smile, and a beat of silence. 

“Your Majesty. We should leave.”

His tongue felt heavy and stiff for having said it though there was no hesitation on Lelouch’s part, not even the smallest pause between the end of his suggestion and the start of a reply.

“You’re right. The Emperor shouldn’t keep his people waiting, should he?”

Suzaku clenched his fist and turned, walking a little ahead, eager to leave because he’d rather drown than suffocate and there was something of himself reflecting in C.C.’s eyes, and he just  _couldn’t_ —

“Lelouch.”

Lelouch paused, and Suzaku did too out of instinct. 

Soft arms wrapped around both their shoulders. C.C. had pulled her two boys into a tight hug. She held them for a long moment, her breath warm and soft against his cheek. Once he was past the initial shock, Lelouch raised an arm around her back and returned the embrace. Suzaku, however, remained rigid. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him. 

Innumerable futures flashed before his eyes, countless  _What-If_ ’s in the span of a few seconds, until he returned to this one, this reality, the one they were stuck with. 

His eyes flicked to his friend dressed in white and crinkled a little in pain. He rested a hand against her shoulder. It was both a reassuring(?) squeeze and a push away. They were wasting time. Lelouch would have to eat on the way now. 

But C.C. held on. She held them til his eyes burned. Til the clock struck the hour in the hall. Til the world might have stopped for all they knew.

Her voice was just a whisper when she finally said anything, a sigh. "Good luck.“

_Good bye._


	48. Psycho Pass I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of psycho pass. based on the anime _psycho pass_.

C.C. used to wonder how Sybil made its judgements. How it picked the most perfect people for the perfect trades, and she never quite believed in its capabilities as much as she did now, as she watched Lelouch with his finger on the trigger of a Dominator and his eyes sparking with JUSTICE and PRIDE. Pride in his mantle as MWPSB inspector. Justice for an inherently corrupt society that had crippled his sister.

He was so powerless though. Watching him, so determined, she wondered if he knew.

The weight of the Dominator crushed her sometimes. But no would ever guess just by looking at her. She was C.C. after all.

Suzaku’s voice cut across the communicator, distinct and crisp.  _In the clear. Shepherd 1, Hound 3. Be careful._

C.C. landed beside Lelouch, stealthy as a cat. Kallen had already turned the corner.

She wasn’t sure how to describe the look in his eye when his trigger locked. When the crime coefficient kept coming up as under 30, under 20, 0.

She extended her hand, the one without Sybil’s weapon, and her smile was just a little unnerving as she said, “This is a contract.”


	49. Psycho Pass II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of psycho pass.

“Freeze! This is the MWPSB—”

It was that girl again. What was she doing here. What did she have to do with any of this?!

“Euphie!”

A breeze swept past Suzaku and pink hair. He couldn’t stop her. It was too late. “Euphie, Euphie, no—!”

Her flesh bloated, deformed, burst.

“Fuck!”

Suzaku woke with cold sweat that mingled with warm tears.

“Euphie,” he choked and buried his face in his hands long enough for his communicator to fall silent. The clock at his bedside read a luminescent 4:12 AM, and it wasn’t just being woken up at this godforsaken hour that made him feel so, so,  _so_  tired. He’d lost them both, and he didn’t want to lose anyone else ever again.

The beeping started once more. He let it go til he’d wiped away the clear stains on his face and his voice had resumed some semblance of normality.

“Kururugi,” he answered.

“Hmph.” The contempt was unmistakable, but Suzaku bore it like he always did. “About as much as I can expect from an  _Enforcer_. If you don’t answer promptly next time, I’ll—”

“What is it, Inspector,” Suzaku interrupted, his voice completely devoid of the warmth that used to be his trademark.

There was a beat of silence. And then, “It’s her. And him. Zero. They’ve reappeared.”

Suzaku’s hands immediately curled into fists. His teeth ground against each other loud enough to hear. He’d definitely make them pay, this time. He’d avenge Euphie. And Lelouch.


	50. Evangelion I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of evangelion. based on the anime _evangelion_.

“Lelouch!”

“I… won’t have you take—” 

His speech had become distorted and garbled. C.C. could no longer make out the static from his voice, and something like panic began setting in. Ridiculous. There was no reason to panic. She was the key. Her Eva had the power to end this in one strike, but if Lelouch. If he—

“— _Any more from me_.” 

"Lelouch!” she cried again. Her Eva jerked violently, and suddenly Unit 3 had disappeared in bounding leaps and with immeasurable speed.

“C.C., cover me!" 

She knew what Suzaku was thinking before he even finished. 

"You can’t, Suzaku! You saw what Beast Mode did to Kallen." 

"This is different!” he barked, growled, utterly guttural and animalistic, and she didn’t need to see his face to understand that nothing she did or said would stop him.

Before she knew it, she found her own hand lingering over the controls. 

“If we do nothing, Lelouch will—! We’ll lose him! He won’t come back! You know this, C.C.! You saw Mao!” 

C.C. growled. Fuck Suzaku. This wasn’t the time to be opening old wounds and dredging up old memories. Her mind was already a haze and her thoughts a mess. Nothing quite registered, not her own ragged gasps or the screens flashing red in her unit. Lelouch was going to engage the Angel any second now, but if she left her post, their chances of success would drop even lower than 1%.

Her eyes flicked frantically to the side. No contact from Cecile or Lloyd either. The Angel’s electromagnetic pulse must have knocked out communication. 

"Mode change! Code Zero!”

"Suzaku, no!" 

Too late. His agonized scream made chills run down her spine, and then he was gone too, his unit speeding across the dead landscape. Lancelot had become unrecognizable. All the bolts had been released, and the whiteness that had always given his Eva an almost noble appeal had fallen away to reveal red muscle, shifting and bulging flesh that was unearthly and ugly. Ethereal. Lost in thought, C.C. didn’t hear her own voice as she bent forward in her module. She was all alone now. Both of their communicators had shut off when their Eva’s lost control. 

_You’re not alone._

C.C. choked. It felt as though the LCL pumping through her lungs were on fire. Her eyes narrowed and blurred. It’d taken so long. It’d taken so long to come this far. She may have been nothing more than a clone but. 

But for the first time, C.C almost.

She almost.

Felt sad about dying.

"Invert mode,” she whispered calmly and leaned back in the cockpit. Her eyelids fluttered against the pervading red glare of the screens. “Code Requiem.”

Immediately, she doubled forward and felt pain like none she’d never felt before. Not when the Fifth Angel had dragged its claw across her chest. Not ever.

Yes, she was just a clone. But if she lost the one person who’d ever made her think (who’d ever made her  _feel_ ) otherwise, then—

“I won’t let you reach Lelouch,” she growled, yellow eyes having gone violent green. 


	51. Evangelion II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of evangelion.

“Your mother lives on in your unit, Lelouch.”

Lelouch stiffened. His eyebrows pinched together; his mouth became an unforgiving straight line. The moonlight glinted off her hair, and she didn’t bother pulling the covers to her chest as she slipped from her side, as her feet touched the cold ground and hardly supported her unsteady weight.

“What?”

“And Suzaku’s father in his.”

She turned to look at him, bright eyes unsympathetic and just a little curious as she watched for his reaction. The sheets had pooled at her waist. She was beautiful in her own way, he supposed. But he couldn’t appreciate that now. Not when her words made no sense. Lelouch jolted upright at the second statement.

“What are you talking about, C.C.”

“Haven’t you ever felt it before?” she asked flippantly, pulling hair from her waist to rest across her shoulder. Her skin looked that much paler in the dim half light. She almost didn’t look real.

(She wasn’t, he reminded himself, and felt bile at the back of his throat. She was a clone. And a monster.)

“Marianne’s presence? Haven’t you noticed, Lelouch? She protected you from the first Angel. And Suzaku never should have recovered from Beast Mode. But he did, and so did Kallen.”

“Then who,” he spat. “Who resides in Unit 2 if—”

“You already know the answer to that, Lelouch. Kallen’s mother, of course.”

“And you could sync because—?”

“Because I am Lilith.”

Silence. Nothing but silence now, and the red waves that lapped the shore just outside their window.

“Is that enough, Lelouch? Have you asked enough questions for one night?”

For someone who never answered him, C.C. suddenly looked weary. Tired. She’d exhausted all her benevolence for the evening. He’d never even known she had any.

“Yes,” Lelouch bit out, teeth gritted and dark violet eyes steeped in contempt. Bitterness filled the premature lines around his mouth. He was so handsome a few years ago, and he was handsome still. Just. A little worn down. Like herself.

When he left, C.C. didn’t know what to do. Her hands entwined with Cheese-kun’s generous folds and finally buried themselves in his yellow fat. She pulled the doll close, just as close as he had been a few minutes ago.

“Wrong, Marianne. This is the furthest thing from heartbreak.”

When no one answered, she added less convincingly and mostly to herself, “I only saved him because it would have been inconvenient otherwise.”

_If you’re a witch, then I—_

“That’s all.”


	52. Unfinished Works I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabbles i started and won’t finish because i’m the worst ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ warning: abrupt endings galore + no context lmao. secondary warning: 5k+ words of unquality suzac luluc unholy trinity rambling unintelligible disjointed trash!fic w/ few or no edits proceed at your own discretion :x

The cell is small and cramped, and there’s a little pain around her eyes when she sees him. C.C. already has the receiver in her hand and waits for them to unbuckle his arms so he can pick up the other. The fact that she’s allowed to visit at all—maybe this is just Charles’s way of torturing her.

They wait until the jailer leaves even though she’s sure they’re being watched.

“They have no evidence,” is the first thing she says, voice level and calm, eyes meeting his weary violet ones.

“How long do you suppose it’ll take to make some?” he returns, smallest quirk of his eyebrow, and he looks so  _thin_ and  _pale_  that C.C. nearly winces.

Instead, she forces herself to smirk, forces the usual teasing back into her voice, and changes the topic. “You look good in a Britannian straitjacket, boy.”

“Shut up, witch,” Lelouch growls, trademark scowl lighting up his face, but there’s a hint of teasing in it too, and C.C. feels her shoulders relax ever so slightly. Her fingers twine around the phone cord.

“How are they treating you?”

* * *

“Don’t forget it is me you are indebted to. Not him.” 

C.C. doesn’t take the bait. “Your wife was kinder, Charles.”

“Yes, and that’s why she’s dead.”

“Your son is kind too. What of him?” She waits, but he has nothing to say, and it’s the silent answers that frighten her the most.

* * *

Lelouch had grown cynical and jaded over the years but still hopeful, bloodstained as he was. Hope faded but never quite disappeared from his eyes even though C.C. had seen them lose color many times, that determined and overconfident spark that lent them their sheen. Still, that persistent  _hope_ lingered, sad and tired and wilted as he was when his hands shook from the weight of his deeds. 

* * *

It was hot. The sort of heat that stuck under your skin and rotted there, that made you sweat from the inside out. Someone was bound to lose their head. C.C. was just surprised it was Suzaku. His fingers had curled in the collar of Lelouch’s shirt before she could blink.

“Bastard! You should have stayed dead!”

Lelouch almost looked hurt. “I—”

Suzaku threw him back before he could get any further, dropped into the armchair opposite C.C., and laced his fingers together. 

* * *

“Word on the street has it that you’ve been in the company of a certain courtesan.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“They say she’s driven several officials to suicide. I’d be careful if I were you, Lelouch.”

An easy smile slid onto Lelouch’s face, the picture of self-assurance, and he laughed, airy and dismissive. The servants weaved between chairs to pick up empty and half-empty plates, and the quiet drizzle of rain on window and roof had Lelouch pausing a moment afterwards, thoughts distracted. His eyes flicked to the depressing weather outside before returning to meet Schneizel’s placid gaze. There was something calculating in those pale violet eyes so similar to his own, something cruel, and Lelouch didn’t doubt Schneizel had motives. The corners of his lips quirked up further to make up for the longer-than-necessary pause.

“Duly noted.”

By the time they’d returned to politics, his mind was elsewhere, in a nondescript back alley with lights low and the background hum of the evening crowd compromising his ability to  _perform_. He’d tossed her a few coins after the fact, more than necessary, and their hands accidentally brushed for a moment. His ratcheted back; hers lingered. Bright gold eyes had caught his in a curious stare. She hadn’t left a name, and Lelouch hadn’t asked.

“Master Lelouch, there’s a woman asking for you in the foyer,” and he was rudely brought back to reality and the penetrating gazes of all the men at the table. 

Lelouch’s lips twitched into a smile. “Excuse me.” 

“C.C.” There was something casual in his tone, something urgent in hers. She swept back the hood of her cloak, and there was green pooling around her shoulders and cool yellow demanding answers. She pulled him away from prying eyes, and if it were anyone else, he might not have noticed the tremble in her fingers, the almost  _shaken_  mien.

“Let’s leave.”

She was holding something in her other hand hidden just out of sight.

“In the middle of dinner?”

“Tonight.”

“C.C., what’s wrong?”

“I have to go. Meet me tonight. Same place.”

“Wait—” 

* * *

Suzaku sat down, pushing his hands into his eyes with a breath that was meant to  _settle_  but that did anything but.

“Alright.” He pulled them away with a clap that earned him the girl’s quirked eyebrow. C.C., Lelouch’s girlfriend. Who he’d been hiding. From him, his best friend. “You’ve been living together  _two_  years.”

“Correct.” C.C. responded before Lelouch could, and her quip was met with a low growl.

“Let  _me_  do the talking.” Lelouch gave her a pointed look, but Suzaku hit Lelouch’s knee with the back of his hand.

“Hey, I want to hear her talk, your  _girlfriend_.”

Lelouch buried his face into his hands at the words. If Suzaku concentrated, he thought he could hear quiet groaning or maybe the insistence that “she’s not my girlfriend” again. Maybe he wasn’t as  _sharp_  as Lelouch was on any given day, but he wasn’t downright idiotic  _especially_  not after catching them  _sharing a shower_.

He tried not to think too hard on the implications as he tugged at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. C.C. on the other hand seemed highly amused by them both.

“Well, that’s a first. Someone wanting to listen to my side of the story.”

“I just want to get the whole picture here.” Suzaku frowned into his outstretched hands as though gesturing would help make sense of Lelouch’s betrayal. Worse than the pork bun hoarding when they were kids. Far worse.

“I just—why didn’t you say anything?” They were both dressed now, C.C. a little more sparsely than her counterpart, and the question finally got Lelouch looking up from his interlocked fingers. His face twisted, repeat words “she’s not my girlfriend” on the cusp of being said before C.C. shut them down.

“We didn’t think you’d understand.”

“What?” Suzaku found Lelouch taking the word right out of his mouth.

C.C. put a hand on Lelouch’s shoulder and squeezed. “We didn’t think you’d understand,” she repeated.

“There’s nothing  _to_  understand,” he pointed out. “We’re not dating. We were never dating. We’re just—”

“So, I’m not you’re girlfriend, hm?” C.C. jerked Lelouch back from leaning against his knees. There was displeasure written all over her face, a stark contrast to the relatively mild expressions she’d been giving a few seconds ago. 

* * *

Whenever Lelouch was doing whatever it was he did nowadays—planning, brooding, strategizing—C.C. often found herself in the other dead man’s company. Suzaku, however, had become even drier than his counterpart. He moved about listlessly. He let her do as she liked as though there wasn’t a stubborn bone left in his body. As though he’d been cleansed of all feeling ever since Lelouch gave him Zero’s outfit for safe keeping, Zero Requiem.

Today she found him in one of the many reading rooms scattered around Pendragon. There was a newspaper fanned across his lap and fingers knitted under his chin. She swished into the room, having bored of the harp, with a glass of wine suspended in her right hand. She waited for acknowledgement and scoffed when she received none. 

* * *

_“We’re sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in–”_

Lelouch slammed the cellphone onto the desk hard enough to rock the glass of water at his father’s left hand, and all the man did was (barely) lift his head from the report he was reading.

“What is the meaning of this.” If the glare didn’t convey his anger, the tone certainly did. He hated his father in general, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this  _furious_.

“Meaning?” Unfazed.

Lelouch growled. “C.C., she’s—” He stopped short of saying the word.

“—gone?” His father finished, something like amusement glinting in those violet eyes as he leaned back in his leather chair and laced his fingers together. “Is that surprising?”

“What have you done.”

* * *

“C.C. … will you marry me?”

“No.”

“I—wait, what?”

C.C. sat in the— _his_ —office, legs crossed and fingers spread out neatly in the air. She continued filing her nails as though he hadn’t said a word, hadn’t asked her  _the_ most fundamental question of his life so far. Most of the lights had been turned down, save for theirs. It was dark outside the door but bright outside the window where the black skyline had been lit up with office buildings and midnight traffic, planes glinting like faraway stars and bridge lanterns reflecting in the murky sea. They could see the whole neon city from their skyscraper, but nothing quite compared to the glint in C.C.’s eyes when she thought she had the upper hand.

C.C. had discarded her high heels and professionalism as soon as the last person left. Her stockinged foot prodded his chest forcefully as she leaned forward, eyes narrowed and teasing and voice like saccharine poison.

“Do it again. This time without sounding like someone died.”

Lelouch frowned and swatted her aside with a sneer curling up the edge of his lips. “This makes the thirteenth time.” 

* * *

Lelouch tried to escape but his escape tactics were laughable at best when he wasn’t in a knightmare. She grabbed his forearm and pulled him back easily.   


“You owed me more than one kiss.”

* * *

“Let’s divorce.”

C.C. looks up from her magazine, curled on the opposite corner of the couch. Her eyes linger briefly on the downturned corners of Lelouch’s lips before flicking back to the glossy ad, passive shrug indicating she cares just about as much as he does.

“Sure.” She thumbs to the next page. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Lelouch thinks a moment, shakes his head. “Dinner party with the Malkals.”

“And the day after?”

“I’ll check my calendar.”

At that, C.C. throws the magazine off her lap, and it lands with an unwieldy thud before sliding off the edge of the table. Even  _that_  doesn’t quite seem to catch Lelouch’s attention, only amounts to a small hiccup in his typing.

“Lelouch. You’re the one eager to divorce, and you’re also the one who doesn’t have the time, so.”

She leans forward, lips at the shell of his ear and breath ghosting across his cheek. “Don’t mention it if you can’t see it through.”

Lelouch slams the screen of his laptop and stands, following at C.C.’s heels into the kitchen. “C.C., divorce is something you have to  _file_  for. Given how much time you spend eating, I would’ve thought you could spare the minute to invite a lawyer.”

C.C. shrugs, letting the snide jab at her eating—and probably her weight—slide for a change. “Doesn’t the company have their own lawyers?”

“Not divorce lawyers.”

“So it is because of Shirley that you’re so eager, isn’t it?” She has her lips pursed around the spoon, half-curious, and C.C. being curious at all is a bit of a surprise. A startled look crosses Lelouch’s expression, and he snaps back a moment before his fingers are fiddling nervously with the cuffs of his shirt, then the collar.

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“On the contrary.” C.C. pats his cheek and leans far enough forward that his breath fogs up the silverware still stuck in her mouth. She closes the fridge with her hip and a muffled, “Congratulations to the happy couple,” picking up Suzaku’s call before it even finishes the first ring. Her voice is a little more saccharine just to spite him, and he  _knows_ , but he looks a little dumbfounded and speechless anyway as she takes it into the bedroom and closes the door behind her. If C.C. had anything of a conscience left, she might have even felt a little bad about it, but as it is, she feels nothing.

* * *

“They need a third party to make sure he acknowledges receiving them,” she says, pushing the papers across the desk. Suzaku takes them somewhat heavily as though the papers are for  _him_ , and she can’t help but find his overconcern funny. 

* * *

"Suzaku? What are you doing here?“

"I—” Suzaku stopped short, no longer sure how to phrase his intentions. 

There was a duffel bag on the table with C.C.’s clothes spilling out of it. He knew because some of them were the outfits he had reluctantly bought for her.

“Where’s Nunnally?” he asked, evading the question at the sudden realization that the small house seemed far more empty and cold than usual. (And also to derail the conversation, Lelouch’s inquisitive gaze and C.C.’s expectant form in the periphery of his vision with her arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow half-raised.)

* * *

"There have been some… interesting events in the underground, but of course, I wouldn’t expect you to know anything of it.“

Lelouch’s attention fell to the pale boy at his side who was completely in love with Schneizel, platonic or otherwise. Even someone as unversed in such affairs as he was could tell. Or maybe spending a year in C.C.’s company had forced some knowledge on him. Either way, it was obvious. His eyes returned to his brother’s face, and a pleasant smile broke out across his own. 

"I told you. I’ve already given up any connection to that man, the company, and the underground. Everything’s yours. Congratulations.”

“Odysseus is still primed to become CEO, but my thanks. I know what weight that carries coming from you. However.” He paused, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I don’t think I’ve won just yet.”

Lelouch growled. “I don’t want to be involved in your underhanded affairs anymore, Schneizel. I don’t want you involving  _Nunnally_ , so you win. I lose, I forfeit; I concede.”

Schneizel laughed. “Come now, Lelouch. We grew up together. Someone like you won’t stop playing the game even if he’s taken out of it. It’s only a matter of time.”

Lelouch didn’t deign to answer, and the silence dragged, punctuated by a passing car or two. The other finally scoffed, standing. “I was a little concerned, but I see that for now, I have nothing to worry about.” He tugged at the cuffs of his jacket just as Nunnally re-entered the room. “Take care of yourself, Lelouch.”

Lelouch followed suit, brushing past Kanon and meeting Schneizel at the door. “Take back your gifts. We don’t need your charity,” he growled, low enough to be out of Nunnally’s range.

“O-Oh, you’re not leaving already, are you?” 

“Thank you, Nunnally, but I am afraid something urgent has come to my attention, and I must take my leave.” He bent down and snagged Nunnally’s hand, giving it a small kiss as Lelouch looked up with a poorly concealed sneer.

“Oh,” he added, a hand to Lelouch’s shoulder as he leaned in and breathed against his ear. “I’d be careful about that woman. Surely you remember her as well?”

His last provocation was met with nothing but silence.

It wasn’t until Nunnally had already gone to bed that C.C. returned to the apartment, and the first thing out of her mouth as she dropped her bag by the door was, “What did he say to you?" 

There was hidden depth in that question even if her expression remained passive. Lelouch gave her a rueful smile from his place at the dining room table, cold coffee and folded hands before him. "Nothing that I didn’t already know." 

* * *

Lelouch moved one step from the wall and vertigo seemed to take him. If she was meaner, she wouldn’t have stopped his face plant, and she almost didn’t. Except there was a tug at her heart that rooted her feet to the ground.

He crashed into her shoulder with all the elegance of a newborn fawn. "Shit.”

It was rare for Lelouch to lose his composure so easily. He must have been really drunk.

“Well, you can’t stay here.”

“Selfish,” Lelouch immediately spat, as though the word were his only lifeline to the present. He struggled to right himself, and his knuckles turned white from the effort, thin pale hand trembling against the midnight blue of her gown. “Are you worried about your reputation? Though—” a short  _ha!_ , “—you’d let Suzaku stay the night.”

Oh. So he  _was_  bitter about that. She wouldn’t take the bait though. Lelouch had to do better if he wanted to get a rise out of her, and she doubted he was in any state to do that.

“I don’t have to remind you that Suzaku has a better reputation than  _Julius Kingsley_  around these parts. Get off me, Lelouch.”

She pushed him, but it was a gentle push, a soft helping hand of a push that really wasn’t like her at all. Maybe she was a bit more drunk than she’d thought too. 

They stood a long time then in silence. Neither willing to back down. Lelouch unwilling—or perhaps unable—to come back the way he came, and C.C. unwilling to open the door for him. Seconds turned to minutes. Just as C.C. felt her resolve wear thin, like her patience, Lelouch shook his bangs to the side and looked much too melancholy for someone in the business of murder and money.

“There is no us, right.” It didn’t seem to be a proper question; C.C. wouldn’t have answered him even if it was. But something clawed at her rib cage, and it took her the rest of the pause to realize it might have been heartache.

“But it isn’t wrong, is it. To want ‘us.’”

She liked sober Lelouch better. He never talked about the elephant in the room which was just as it should be. For all intents and purposes, she didn’t exist. She looked at him coldly and responded in a voice just as lackluster, “Go to sleep, Lelouch.”

She took the key from the folds of her dress, petticoat parting neatly when her fingers hooked on the cool metal in its hidden pocket, and pressed it into the palm of his hand. Careful not to linger longer than necessary, just enough for his own hand to close around the jagged indents.

“Sleep here. I don’t care.”

“Where are you going?” he murmured through the spaces of his outstretched hand fanning across his face flushed with alcohol.

C.C. shrugged. “Maybe I’ll pay a visit to Suzaku.” 

* * *

“Euphemia looks distracted tonight.”

“I noticed.”

“Oh? Have you been keeping up with their star-crossed romance too?“

"What? What are you talking about?”

“Hmm, given it’s your best friend and half-sister, one would think you’d be a bit more attentive.”

“What does Suzaku have to do with anything?”

“I’ll give you a little more time to figure it out by yourself, boy.” 

* * *

At first, C.C. had thought he’d hurt himself. The blood certainly lent to that impression but not the  _knife_ , the dumbstruck silence that even she found off-putting. It wasn’t until she saw where he came from, though, that she understood. The Prime Minister’s door wide open, the trail of blood slinking after him. She stopped midway through saying his name, and the most that C.C. could think to do then was to sit and hold his bloody hands.

* * *

C.C. grabbed his wrist and looked at him sternly when he thought he was being discreet. He knew what she wanted to say, but he shook her off irritably anyway. He’d carry his burdens if he wanted to. He had to. After what he’d done, he didn’t even deserve to live.

* * *

She hadn’t felt much like traveling again to be honest, but she had someone she wanted to see. 

“I missed you,” he finally admitted with some chagrin that C.C. almost found endearing. Suzaku looked askance and coughed. It was like Lelouch left a part of himself with C.C. Missing C.C. and missing Lelouch—maybe they were the same thing. 

* * *

“I still can’t believe you let Mao convince you to adopt.”

C.C. passed the wailing bundle to the nursemaid with hardly another glance. Her eyes nevertheless lingered on the woman’s retreating form, baby kicking fussily at the air, before returning to meet Suzaku’s brilliant green ones. The small girl’s cries gradually faded until neither could hear them, and then C.C. sat down. She crossed her legs and had a cigarette between her fore- and middle finger before he could think twice. 

“Aren’t you too young to be smoking?” he asked, not expecting her to answer the question that he’d meant as a lighthearted jest, but she leveled him a glare that had his lips pursing and his back straightening. There was a smile a second later, though, muted and a tad gloomy.

“Relax. I don’t bite, remember?" 

His eyes glossed over the skin between her neck and shoulder, and he swallowed thickly. "It’s been a while. Five years.”

“Three, but who’s counting.”

“Three—?” Suzaku didn’t get to finish the question, pang of guilt surfacing before the memory could, as the sound of the back door slamming had both of them straightening. It was only half a second longer before Lelouch was shaking the drizzle off his coat and throwing it over the back of the couch, drops of water glinting off his hair and making him look ridiculous. Suzaku stifled the laughter, forgetting for a moment they were more enemies than friends, and he thought he caught something similar from C.C. from the corner of his eye.

Suzaku moved to introduce them, but that  _look_  they were exchanging, and he stopped short. “So you’ve already met,” he said after a brief pause, suddenly brusque and unsympathetic. “You don’t need me after—”

“It was by chance,” C.C. interrupted, hardly sparing a glance in his direction. Lelouch did, however, tearing his eyes away from C.C. with what seemed like enormous effort and settling them on Suzaku. His skin prickled from the intensity of the gaze.

“Mao’ll make trouble if he catches us alone,” he agreed. Suzaku only shook his head.

He left them alone for the rest of the evening. Come nightfall, Lelouch had already left by the backdoor, and there was only C.C. to see him off. The resentment at being tricked had faded by now. He paused at the threshold and turned back. 

“…I forgot about that,” he muttered through lightly gritted teeth.

“Better forgotten.” That was what she said, but Suzaku couldn’t help getting the feeling she was being rather smug about it. Her expression was the same though, unreadable and a little cold.

* * *

C.C. stood in the back with the rest, eyes a little glazed over as she listened to the announcement. Her mind was elsewhere, repeating conversations she’d rather not remember, so it was just a little disconcerting when she didn’t notice the man at her elbow until his breath skirted her neck. She immediately stiffened, hard glint back in her eye, as her hand fell from her necklet, and amber eyes met pale violet ones with complete apathy. It wasn’t whom she had expected, but. Better his company than no company, she supposed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” she observed casually.

“I could say the same,” he returned as the crowd began dissipating, shifting towards the edges of the ballroom or the exit. Charles’s voice stopped ringing, and she glanced up briefly to watch the older man go. 

“None of us have seen you in a while. Has my brother upset you so much?”

“I think you misunderstand what my relationship with Lelouch is,” she replied, tearing her gaze away from the now empty podium and twiddling a strand of hair between thumb and forefinger. Schneizel’s polite, little smile widened, and C.C. suddenly found herself annoyed.

“I never said it was Lelouch.”

“Didn’t you mean him, though?”

If there was anyone who liked to play word games, it was Schneizel, and as much as C.C. enjoyed the occasional theological debate on semantics, there was something about Schneizel’s pomp that rubbed her the wrong way. 

* * *

It wasn’t that Lelouch forgave C.C. or that he couldn’t stay mad at her. It was simply that, in the end, C.C. was his only confidante. Sad, but true, so he inadvertently found himself looking for her when he arrived at the event, decked in expensive fabric and white gloves that made his hands look small and insignificant (like when they were positioned behind a trigger, and suddenly the gun weighed more than he did).

The mere thought was enough to make him choke, but he swallowed back the upheaval of stomach acid and self-loathing with affected smiles and veiled hello’s. His mind was a thousand miles away, back in that room with blood and a bullet hole and Shirley’s name bouncing off metal walls.

It never got easier, only redundant, and then things like  _this_  happened to remind him he still had a heart at all.

Throughout everything though—distracted thoughts, champagne and horse race winnings—Lelouch subconsciously looked. A flash of green, a wink of amber, a vague notion of being watched from across the room. There was none of that, nothing, no sign that she even  _attended_. Something like disappointment gradually filtered through his foggy attention that was divided between the blonde on his left and the ginger on his right.

Clovis strode forward with much the same arrangement except reversed orientation, and  _that_  was when Lelouch decided he’d finally had enough. He excused himself before Clovis could so much as breathe in his presence and disappeared into the endless flow of people.

* * *

Lelouch always found her. No matter where went. So she was only a little surprised when his familiar dark hair finally joined the crowd, appeared on the floor amidst a sea of painted faces and wide smiles. He was deathly pale despite how long it’d been. A few days? It felt longer. (It always felt long when they didn’t talk.)

There was no point in avoiding him now as she may or may not have been subconsciously doing all evening. She always stood out like a sore thumb in a crowd. Maybe it was time she took up Charles’s suggestion to dye her hair. He sidled up, and for once, C.C. couldn’t quite place his expression just as he couldn’t place hers. For a moment, it seemed the silence might lapse into a contest of who would break it first, but C.C. ended it before it could begin with something like an exasperated sigh.

“Hello, Lelouch. They’re all out if you were wondering.”

She picked the last pizza bagel off her plate and pressed it into her mouth. He’d picked up on the patronizing tone and frowned, but he’d come with a purpose, and he wasn’t going to let her agitate him away from it.

“No Pizza Hut?” he finally asked, shoulders a little slumped, and she shrugged.

“I had to settle,” before handing the empty plate and crumbs to a passing waiter.

“Did you have something to discuss, Lelouch vi Britannia?”

So formal. Was she angry with him? That didn’t quite seem like C.C., though, so he only raised an eyebrow in response as she twirled the clump of hair falling out of her bun around her forefinger.

“Elsewhere,” he answered and motioned to the garden path with his eyes.

She watched him apathetically then started moving without him. She weaved through the crowd stealthy as a cat and Lelouch did his best to follow suit, but he bumped into more people than he didn’t and every other person he bumped into clapped him on the shoulder and spun him around for a lengthy introduction and added small talk. Very soon, C.C. was out of reach and then out of sight.  


* * *

“C.C., I love you.”  


Another time, that might have left her breathless, but now, it merely left her tepid which, admittedly, was still a bit of a disgrace.

“Tell me, Lelouch, what do you think of me?”

He tore his eyes away from hers with a flicker of agitation like she was asking a pointless question. That gave her just the opening she needed to close the distance between them. Funny how even in heels he was still a little bit taller than her, just enough that she still had to lean up to catch his lips. It was a brief kiss; she was returning to the flats of her stilettos before he could deepen it.

“Just kidding.” 

Lelouch turned, chagrined, but not before she caught the fleeting smirk on his lips. 

* * *

“You’re going with Schneizel to France, aren’t you? Carine told me.”

That probably wasn’t all the girl had told him, C.C. mused, but she refrained from asking when she remembered she didn’t care.

“Hmph. Are you going to accept his proposal?” he continued.

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

“He’ll make you miserable.”

“Any more than you have?”

He wasn’t expecting that. She could tell from the way his eyes widened. C.C. patted his chest. “Lighten up, Lelouch. It could do your health some good.” She stepped back quickly, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m here to make sure your family doesn’t go under.”

“By marrying into it? Can you really maintain objectivity then?”

She laughed, and it was a twinkling sound. “Is that really the reason you don’t want me marrying into it? Would you say the same if I was marrying you?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” he huffed.

So desperate to maintain his dignity in the face of every jab. He really was a funny guy, Lelouch. “As you said yourself: there is no us.”

* * *

“Someone has been using the name Julius Kingsley.”

“Lelouch?” C.C. asked though she could’ve guessed the man’s lukewarm response.

“Doubtful. Most likely someone who’s picked up on his absence. Were we hoping otherwise, my dear C.C.?”

C.C. snorted lightly and wrapped the gossamer shawl tighter about her shoulders. “Hardly,” she answered before stepping out of the car.

“Well, we’ll find who it is soon enough. No need to worry, love.”

Schneizel’s lips ghosted across the palm of her hand, and she looked on, unfazed. “I would expect no less,” she returned before retreating out of Schneizel’s reach and ascending the stairs. It was going to be a long night. She might as well enjoy herself. 

* * *

It was one of those work functions she was obligated to attend. Something about finally coming to an agreement with their rival company. She didn’t know the details, and she wasn’t too interested. She may have hammered out the initial settlement, but once the paperwork was out of her hands, V.V. didn’t care to keep her updated. But that was alright. As long as it didn’t affect her negatively, C.C. never asked. Though, these functions were starting to get on her nerves.

Someone once asked why she only wore black or white. She didn’t remember her exact answer, but it was probably something along the lines that wearing any other color didn’t matter when every other color was varying shades of grey. It made putting together an outfit that much more difficult. And then, if her conversation partner had already found their soulmate, she’d get a  _look_. C.C. could never decide whether it was sympathy or pity, but she didn’t care for either.

* * *

“Us being together?” C.C. leaned from the railing, and lime green hair cascaded across her back in stark contrast to the white snow dusting her white jacket. Suzaku watched, a little mesmerized. “It was a fluke, one of those freak accidents of nature.”

“He’s happier now than he ever was with me.”

Lelouch grabbed Shirley’s elbow just as she threatened to fall. There was an awkward laugh, a light blush, and they continued gliding along, the perfect couple.

“And you?”

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

“You know I’m a free spirit.”


	53. Unfinished Works II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was a botched continuation of [chapter 30: wrong door](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863007/chapters/39598168).

“Uh, do you want to listen to the radio?”

“No. I prefer silence.”

“Oh. Alright.”

“Uh, by the way, am I the only one who knows or…?”

“Nunnally.”

“Wait, really?”

C.C. gave him a look as if to say, “What do you think?”

“Right, I guess that would be hard to hide…” Still. Suzaku couldn’t help the inkling of betrayal. Betrayed by both Lamperouge siblings. He was a little shocked, but then he supposed blood ran thicker than water. It shouldn’t have been that big of a surprise.

“So, who’s your lady friend?”

“Lady friend?”

“Your car reeks of women’s perfume.”

“H-How do you know it’s women’s perfume? How do you know it’s not—“

“I know this perfume. Lelouch has another sister. Euphemia, was it?”

“…It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

“Hey! Where did you–!”

_“Suzaku! Sorry, you’re probably asleep, aren’t you? The time difference really is awful… but I’ll be back soon. The talks didn’t go as well as I would’ve liked… but I miss you. I love—“_

“Invasion of privacy—give it back!”  

C.C. tossed the phone into his lap at a stop light where it fell unceremoniously to the floor. She’d proven her point and fell silent again, placid expression doing nothing to hide the smugness radiating off her like exhaust fumes.

“Hey… Euphy doesn’t know, does she?”

“No.” “Oh, but the redhead does.”

“The red—Kallen?” “ _Kallen_  knows? How does Kallen know?”

“She walked in on us.”

“ _Walked in on us?_ —oh, shit!”

“Sorry!” Suzaku called, craning his neck out the window as the car sped through the red light, and he could hear the chorus of honking long after they’d passed the intersection. “What do you mean  _walked in on us_?”

“Figure it out.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Now that’s getting too personal.”

* * *

“You know, a year ago, I found a strand of green hair on Lelouch’s bed. It all makes sense now.”

C.C. hmm’d, and it didn’t sound like a very happy  _hmm_ , but Suzaku didn’t think too hard on it, opting instead to grab the cat food out of the bag he’d left at the door.

“Don’t get too drunk on that wine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ( ´ ▽ ` ) ive written so much CG and luluc fic ( ´ ▽ ` ) thanks to everyone who's ever read any of these disaster drabbles   
> my CG love is eternal ( ´ ▽ ` )


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